The Otherside
by Council
Summary: In a desperate experiment, the Order of the Phoenix accidentally summon Harry Potter to a new reality. Here lives a different kind of Boy-Who-Lived, and Harry will find that darkness lurks in familiar places. Sometimes, when you look into a mirror, the otherside stares back. Sometimes, you can see them blink. Romance, comedy, adventure. Don't want to spoil it though. Come and Read!
1. Chapter 1

**The Otherside**  
**Chapter One**

Thank you for reading!

* * *

Every beautiful beginning arises from a bitter ending.

That's what Harry felt as he stood exhausted, beaten, but unflinching in front of Tom Riddle. Death eaters surrounded the seventeen year old teenager on all sides, and the Forbidden Forest was unnaturally quiet, outside of the gruff, muffled moans from Hagrid, being held hostage by no other than Bellatrix Lestrange.

He knew he was meant to say something. Something sharp and witty; a final poke at his arch-nemesis, but he felt selfish. This was his end. His whole life he had been held high on a pedestal, unable to truly choose his own path, unable to fight against the tendrils of destiny and prophecy.

Now, at the very end, with the elder wand pointed at this chest, there was no reason to uphold everyone's faith in him.

His job was finished.

No longer was he the Boy-Who-Lived. No longer the saviour of the wizarding world.

Finally, he was just Harry. Just Harry Potter.

"Avada Kedavra," Riddle spoke, almost softly, but there was an unmistakable malice hissing through the incantation.

The earliest memory Harry had was of a bright green light, when he was less than a year old. He supposed it was only fitting that his life ended the same.

Pulsing green enveloped his existence, and instead of the expected pain, he felt a cool embrace.

And that was all.

* * *

"You're sure this will work, Albus?"

"I would hope, Minerva, that a reflection of my previous experiments would give good foresight into our desired outcome."

"That statement provides me with little reassurance."

"Precisely! Now, let us concentrate…"

Several witches and wizards stood scattered within the unused classroom. It was a relatively nondescript room. Chalky dust powdered the vacant desks, pushed haphazardly to the edge of the room. Remnants of magical graffiti flitted across the remaining blackboard, vaguely stating something obscene about Snape.

The professor in question seemed to be staunchly facing away from the blackboard, whereas Remus and James seemed to be snickering at the offensive words. James seemed on edge though, his laugh less easy-going, an unfamiliar tone of stress tainting it, but it was nothing compared to that of his wife.

Lily paced anxiously back and forth, quickly enough to stir up a small chalk dust cloud by her flats. She had her hands clasped, picking at the edges of her fingers, and if one looked closely they would notice the worn down nails, chewed at to the quick. James placed a reassuring hand on her lower back, and she smiled gratefully, her stress momentarily fading, but then he turned away and she returned to pacing.

Dumbledore stood in the middle of the room, discussing the intricacies of a particular cup with Flitwick. Whatever the two charms experts were discussing, it was advanced enough that McGonagall stood a full meter away from them, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"The wey lines from the second intricacy will only provide enough power if the adjunct node is activated from the parallel plane," Flitwick chirped in his recognisable high pitched voice. He wobbled slightly from his precarious stack of books, and Dumbledore steadied him with a soft hand.

"I understand, my dear friend, but that is if we were utilising the power in a generic fashion. What we're attempting is to bypass the wey lines, not attach to them. It changes the necessity to utilise the parallel plane, thus not running the risk of draining the final outlet."

"In that case, you're limited to soul siphoning."

"Thus the necessity of abandoning Warnicke's Law."

"You know my thesis was on the importance of upholding that law."

"Alas, I apologise, dear friend."

"Albus, as fascinating as this is, do you think we can begin?" Lily approached Dumbledore as she spoke nervously. The wizened wizard sighed. It pained him to see the, usually so vibrant green eyes, downcast and defeated.

"Let us begin," he replied simply.

The mood in the room shifted. Everyone stopped fidgeting and drew their wands, facing the centre of the room, where the gilded, golden cup lay dormant.

"Fudge will have your head if he finds out you stole the Goblet of Fire," McGonagall reprimanded.

"Ah, but I didn't steal it, young Remus did," Dumbledore replied, a twinkle in his eyes, while James muffled a chuckle.

"You wouldn't throw your favourite pupil under the Knight Bus like that, surely professor," Remus joked, but he did look marginally guilty.

"Lily, the parchment, if you please," Dumbledore asked gently, to which she passed him a piece of paper, heavy creases marking the middle, as if it had been opened and closed often in a short period of time. Dumbledore pried it open, and revealed the two words written within.

Harry Potter.

Quietly, Dumbledore dropped the parchment in the cup, which released a soft flicker of green in response as it greedily enveloped the paper. He then raised his wand, long, with small wooden knots marking the length, and began to manipulate the flow of power.

Flitwick sighed unhappily when the goblet began to sputter to life, angry green flames roaring as high as the half-dwarf.

"There goes Warnicke's law," He muttered.

By now, everyone had their wands raised and pointed at the cup. Their expressions were harsh, and unforgiving. Yet, no one was prepared when the goblet exploded.

Bright green flames burst up towards the ceiling, colliding with the stone surface, before willowing out to the side, stretching like the waves of the ocean. They threw their wands up to the ceiling, casting protective domes around themselves, but the flames carried through. They gasped, as instead of a burning sensation, they felt an auspicious cooling sensation pass through their skin.

As quickly as the flames erupted, they then died away. The green flames trickled to the corners of the room, where they seemed to sink into the heavy floorboards. White chalky dust settled slowly in the aftermath.

"Did it- did it work?" Lily asked, coughing halfway through, whether from the dust or her anxiety.

Dumbledore didn't respond. He was staring at the centre of the room, where the Goblet of Fire had once stood. It was gone, nothing remained except the wooden base it had been attached to. In its place was a teenage boy, sprawled uncomfortably across the top of the desk. The glasses on his face were askew. His denim jeans were torn, and his shirt was ripped and bloodied. He had a weak grip on his holly wand, and the room watched, as if in slow motion, as the wand slid from his fingertips. It hit the ground, and the thunk of wood on stone resonated throughout the abandoned classroom.

"It's him," Remus snarled, pointing his wand directly at the dark haired teen, and marching forwards.

"Stay away from my child," Lily shouted, positioning herself between the two, her own wand drawn, threatening Remus.

"James, he's responsible. You know this. He deserves this!" Remus growled, glancing away from Lily, only to look at his old friend. James, meanwhile, looked marginally conflicted, but nevertheless moved to stand with his wife, although his wand lay limp at his side.

"I'm sorry, James and Lily, but Remus is right," McGonagall added, standing with Remus. Like James, her wand wasn't drawn, but her eyes were cold like steel, unforgiving and unflinching.  
Sparks crackled from the tip of Remus's wand, and Lily reacted quickly, a blast of air emanated from around her, and causing the occupants of the room to stumble backwards.

McGonagall righted herself, and with a thin line on her lips, shot a red stunning spell at her pupil's direction. James' wand was up in a heartbeat, reflecting the spell, which narrowly missed Dumbledore, who was resting heavily against an unused desk, exhausted from the ritual. Flitwick, squeaked loudly for everyone to stop, but his voice was drowned out the crackling spellwork.

"Lily, Remus, stand down!" Severus said, his voice dour and soft, but cutting through the air like sharp wire.

"Sev, stay out of this, and stay away from my child!"

"That is not your child!" Severus bellowed,narrowly dodging a jinx that passed over his shoulder. The fighting stopped as his words echoed in the enclosed room.

"What do you mean that's not my-"

"That," Severus snapped, pointing at the groaning teen sprawled on the desk, "Is not Harry Potter."

"I believe Severus is correct." Everyone turned to face Albus, as he spoke with a weary voice. The elderly wizard in question was standing up, but his shoulders were hunched forwards and his eyes displayed the magical exhaustion. "Despite some similarities he may bear, he is not Harry Potter.

The silence in the room was heavy, and impressive, until…

"What do you mean, I'm not Harry Potter?"

Everyone in the room spun back around to the centre, where the teenager had picked himself up, and was standing warily. However, his eyes were narrowed, and his brows furrowed, as if something had ticked him off.

"I've spent half my life wishing I wasn't born Harry Bloody Potter, and now that I've finally come to terms with it, I've got a bunch of half-baked dead memories telling me otherwise? Thanks, but no thanks."

Minerva scrutinised the teen in front of her. He was taller than she remembered. His hair was longer too, not that that couldn't be changed easily with magic. The eyes were the same, although they were hidden by a pair of frames. That was unusual. Her eyes went wide as she glanced at a parting in his fringe.

Harry knelt down to pick his holly wand from the ground, but as his fingers neared, it zipped out of his reach into Remus' outstretched hand. Frowning, Harry flicked his fingers towards him, and Remus yelped as the wand was torn out of his fingers, settling in its owner's hand.

"I'll ask that you don't touch what's not yours, Remus," Harry said, disappointment tingeing his voice. Harry seemed oblivious to the shocked looks at his casual display of wandless magic. In fact, he seemed oblivious to most of the occupants of the room, and only now seemed to be taking in his surroundings.

"Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall," Harry introduced, nodding slightly, "Snape," he continued bluntly, and despite the lack of title, it was said surprisingly amiably. Harry turned to the headmaster, and his own eyes scrutinised the man.

"You're meant to be dead," he stated simply. Dumbledore coughed weakly in response.

"Not yet, dear boy." There was an amused twinkle within his blue eyes. "However, I imagine my counterpart has not fared as well as me."

"Depends, what year is it?"

"1994"

"No, you're about on track, sir," Harry responded, "You might want to think about updating your will soon though."

Dumbledore chuckled grimly.

"Duly noted."

"Albus, what's going on?" What happened to my son?" Lily asked, a flare of her infamous temper lighting her voice from beneath the confusion.

"I'm afraid we have failed quite spectacularly," the headmaster explained, dusting his hands on his purple robe, "For some reason, we have not summoned the Harry Potter from our reality, but rather, a different Harry Potter, from an alternate reality."

There was a profound silence.

"That's impossible," McGonagall exclaimed.

"It should have been, if we had followed Warnicke's Law," Flitwick chirped in.

"Isn't that the law that prevents soul siphoning during elongated enchantments?" Harry asked the tiny man.

"Yes indeed!" Flitwick said excitedly, "admittedly a very fundamental explanation, but in layman's terms, indeed."

"I'm afraid I don't know anything further than that," Harry admitted," Hermione was the one who explained it to me when she enchanted our bottomless bags."

"Ah, so there is a Hermione Granger in your reality as well?" Dumbledore asked curiously, to which Harry nodded.

"There's an alternate all of you. Well, except for you guys," Harry said, gesturing to James and Lily. "You two died when I was a baby. I mean, I guess that's technically the alternate you, but I didn't get to know you. Nice to meet you, by the way."

Harry held out his hand to James, the latter who stared at it cautiously. Slowly, Harry withdrew his hand.

"Mum?" Harry asked, facing the red haired witch.

"You're not my son," Lily whispered softly, staring at him with wide eyes. A flicker of emotion flashed in his green eyes, but he dropped his head, hiding his expression for several seconds. When he looked back up, his eyes were steeled, devoid of emotion.

"I thought it'd be more emotional meeting my parents for the first time. Well, second time," Harry added, remembering Priori Incantatem. "But you guys aren't really my parents. Not really. Or you wouldn't be alive.

"Is that a threat?" James asked menacingly.

"Hardly. Just a reflection on your parenting skills," Harry replied quickly. Turning to look at the shattered remains of the Goblet of Fire, Harry then turned to Flitwick.

"I don't suppose there's a way to send me back to my world? I was kind of in the middle of something important there."

Flitwick shook his head sadly, and Harry sighed heavily.

"I thought as much."

"You are awfully calm for being thrown into such an uncomfortable situation," Dumbledore mentioned, staring at the boy like an unsolved enigma.

"I had to get used to dealing with unexpected situations," Harry replied, smirking slightly, "This is hardly the weirdest thing that has happened to me."

Dumbledore's blue eyes flashed brightly.

"Also, I have the strongest Occlumency shields of anyone in Great Britain," Harry remarked, tapping the side of his head with a finger. "I wouldn't try that again, sir."

"Apologies," Dumbledore replied, but he seemed even more intrigued than apologetic.

"This is a complete waste of time," Remus snarled from the corner of the room. He pulled his tattered cloak tightly around him and made to leave. The rest of the room began mumbling, and began drifting away. They paused when Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly.

"We can't just leave the boy," He remarked, looking pointedly at the Potter family.

"He's not our son," Lily replied, refusing to look at the teen.

"It's fine. I lived without parents for seventeen years. I think I'll survive," Harry said coldly. He analysed the occupants of the room. "Considering a quarter of you wanted to kill me, a quarter of you only care about the other Potter, and the other half can beat me in a duel, I think I'll stay with Snape."

"You- what?" Severus spluttered.

"Professor Flitwick is a duelling master," Harry commented, "Or at least he is in my world. And until I trust you people, I'd rather be able to hold my ground against whoever's holding me captive. No hard feelings, sir," Harry directed the last part at Flitwick, who waved his hand nonchalantly, blushing slightly at the praise.

"And you think you best me in a duel?" Severus asked threateningly, raising himself up, his cloak billowing out behind him.

"Undoubtedly," Harry replied, a grin on his lips.

"You pride will be your downfall, you arrogant toerag."

"I'll take that as an invitation. Cheers Snivellus."

Snape stood, mouth open, eyes wide, as Harry made a large gesture with his arms.

"After you."

* * *

"Potter, I liked your counterpart as much as I enjoy teaching first year remedial potions. However, I am quickly finding that you're even less tolerable."

Harry stuck his head out of the fridge, frowning at the dour professor.

"It's not my fault you don't have anything to eat. What does your body subside on? Flobberworms and unicorn horn dust?"

"...Chinese food, mainly," Snape admitted.

"That would explain the greasy hair. Way too much oil in chinese take away," Harry commented, ignoring the fridge and turning to the liquor cabinet, which was locked.

"How dare you! Also, stay away from there," Snape complained.

The lock clicked open, and Harry turned to stare at Snape, apologetic. The effect was lost though when a grin cracked through, and he began sifting through the various bottles of firewhisky.

"You're going to be the death of me," Snape sighed, slumping heavily into a kitchen chair.

"Technically correct," Harry replied, popping open a half empty bottle of Odgen's Finest, and pouring two glasses.

"What?"

"Alternate you died about 45 minutes ago," Harry answered, floating the two drinks to the kitchen table wandlessly. "Well, technically in about 4 years time, but 45 minutes ago for me."

"Oh."

"To Snivellus. He shall be missed," Harry proclaimed dourly, and proceeded to drain his glass.

Snape stared at Harry, but his eyes seemed to seeing through the raven haired boy. Eventually, his fingers found the glass of liquor, and he drained his glass as well.

"I never thought I'd be toasting to my own death," Snape commented, his stomach feeling warm, and his tongue feeling lighter.

"Also don't call me that."

"Sorry."

"You don't sound sorry at all."

"I'm not."

Harry snapped his fingers softly, and the bottle of Odgen's floated over from the cabinet to his hand. Two quick pours later and the glasses were refilled.

"You're not going to ask me how you died?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

"Will knowing help me in any way?"

"I suppose not." Harry admitted.

The kitchen was quiet as they sipped on the glasses. It was a simple home. A house built in the middle of a muggle street. The kitchen was made of aged wood bricks, and the floor was worn, dark brown timber. A fireplace could be seen in the living room, but was unused during the hotter summer weather. The house was surprisingly Muggle, with its use of electronics, such as the fridge, and the electric lights on the ceiling. It reminded Harry that Snape wasn't a pureblood. He was, afterall, the Half-Blood Prince.

"You were misunderstood your entire life," Harry said softly, speaking to the bottle of Odgen's. "And when you died, you were hated by all. And then I learnt that you were the bravest man I had ever known."

Snape swallowed heavily, his throat suddenly dry. He grabbed the bottle and refilled the glasses.

"And then about half an hour later I died, and here I am!"

Snape raised a glass.

"To the Potter brat, he shall be missed."

Harry raised an eyebrow, but grinned nevertheless, and clinked his glass against the other.

"Cheers."

They drained the glasses, both sighing in content as the liquor burned.

"So, about that Chinese food," Harry asked.

"The phone's by the kettle," Snape replied lazily.

Harry nodded, and with a flick of his fingers the phone lifted of it's receiver, and floated towards the table. However, halfway through, the device crackled, and began smoking. Harry stared at the device in surprise. He tried pressing some of the numbers and holding it up to his ear, but it appeared completely fried.

"There's something wrong with your phone."

"It's electronic, you dunderhead! You can't use magic on it!"

"Reparo," Harry intoned, and jumped when the device blew up in his hands, plastic fragments flying across the room. "Right. Duly noted."

"You'll be paying for that."

"I suppose we can just apparate to the shop," Harry suggested after an awkward pause.

"Drunk apparating is strictly illegal," Snape intoned, almost automatically.

"Right. I forgot you were a stick in the mud."

"I'm sorry I don't feel the need to flaunt my superiority to society's basic laws, which help maintain relative peace and stability."

"Man, you really did hate my dad didn't you."

"The Potter spawn was worse."

"Hey!"

"Not you, you dunderhead."

"I thought you said I was worse than the kid."

"That's correct."

"Now you're just being confusing on purpose."

"Perhaps your small brain simply cannot keep up."

"Hmph." Harry crossed his arms in a sign of defeat. For the first time that night, Snape realised that the kid actually looked like a kid. He spoke and acted with a confidence that belied his age. It was easy to forget that he was only seventeen when he displayed such control over magic. In fact…

Snape grabbed the bottle of Odgen's from Harry before he was able to pour another glass.

"You're underage, you little brat," Snape exclaimed. Standing up (and swaying slightly), he returned the bottle to the cabinet, locked the door, and for an extra precaution, placed an immovable charm on the cabinet doors. Harry huffed, but looked buzzed enough to not really care.

"So, what's the deal with the Boy-Who-Lived," Harry asked. "He can't be that special. His mum's still alive and all."

"Why do you keep mentioning that?" Snape asked.

"Mentioning what?"

"Lily dying."

Harry blinked dumbly.

"I guess it went differently in this world. For me, dad died fighting Voldemort. When he got to me, mum sacrificed herself instead. Then, he attacked me, and boom." Harry mimed an explosion with his hands.

"Voldemort died. I lived, and was sent to live with my shitty relatives for the rest of my life."

Snape stared at Harry, his eyes haunted.

"Lily died?"

"She did."

"I must've been a right old bastard in your world."

"You sure were."

"And yet…?"

"As I said, bravest man I knew."

Snape really needed another drink. He got up to go back to the cabinet, but blinked in surprise when the bottle of Odgen's clinked against his glass. He glanced at Harry, his hand outstretched, then at the cabinet, which was once again open, and then back at Harry, who was grinning victoriously.

Another glass was poured, and quickly downed.

"I was a Death Eater," Snape admitted, glancing at Harry nervously. He was unsure as to why he felt the need to have the brat's approval, but he felt relieved when Harry didn't react to the admission.

"I overheard a…" His words caught in how own mouth, as if a large, invisible ping pong ball was lodged down his throat.

"A prophecy." Harry completed. Snape's eyebrows rose in surprise, but he nodded in confirmation.

"Immediately, I told the Dark Lord, for at the time, I believed in his cause. My only wish was that Lily would not be hurt."

"You loved my mum."

Snape chose to ignore the comment.

"Am I really the bravest man you knew? A man who sentenced a father, and two children to their deaths."

"We all make mistakes Snape," Harry murmured. "Some worse than others. It's how you respond that shows who we truly are."

They settled into another comfortable silence, disturbed only the sound of glasses tapping against the wooden table. Snape seemed content staring into space, his eyes cloudy as he delved back into his past. Harry, however had his brows furrowed in confusion, as his half-drunk mind tried to concentrate.

"Hold on, did you say two children?"

* * *

**AN/**

**For those who know my previous stories. I am sorry. In case it wasn't quite obvious, I have been in a pretty bad writing slump. I have tried countless times to continue writing the other stories, particularly The Amplitude series, but alas, words fail me.**  
**Thus, this story is an attempt to bring back my love for writing. **

**Bear with me (hehe, imagining bear paws now). The Amplitude will be finished one day. The others... we'll see. For now, I would love to have your support in this new series!**

**Descriptions are minimal, pairings are not announced. I would like for this to be an adventure of unknowns, for both the reader, and the writer (although I probably shouldn't be admitting that)!**

**Also, I added William the Pukwudjie into the character list because it was an option on FF. Just thought it sounded cool.**

**To new and old fans alike:**

**Cheers**

**-Council**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Otherside**  
**Chapter 2  
**

* * *

Harry Potter wasn't going to lie. If someone had told him he would wake up in Snape's muggle home, hungover, and unable to find his pants, he would have thought Fred and George were having a very impressive prank going on.

As it was, the Fred and George he knew now lived in a different reality, and Harry was still struggling to find his pants. He was interrupted in his search by Snape, who stepped out of his bedroom, a dark blue dressing gown wrapped around his body, and red-sore bloodshot eyes squinting angrily.

"That's the last time I drink with you, brat," Snape drawled, but the effect was ruined by his unusual attire.

"You look like crap," Harry commented, immediately realising the irony of his statement. Snape just raised one eyebrow. "Alright mister potion master. Go get those hangover potions out of your attic for us."

"Potter. If I had access to such a valuable recipe, do you truly believe I would be living in this squalor."

"It's not that bad a place," Harry defended, having grown somewhat attached to the small house. "I mean, yeah, it's a bit trashed, but that's half your fault."

"I don't recall being the one jumping onto and breaking the kitchen table," Snape grumbled.

"Heh. That's right." Harry chuckled softly, but then clutched his head in pain. "Hangover potions first."

"For the last time Potter, I do not know have this remedy you talk about-"

"Accio hangover potion!" Harry winced as the television behind him imploded.

"And no magic in the house you blubbering fool!"

Harry was staring at his hand in shock though. There was no hangover potion whooshing towards him.

"Oh god. They don't exist in this world."

"What don't?!" Snape exclaimed angrily. His usual short temper was already frayed by the lack of sleep, and growing headache.

"Hangover potions."

"Of course not."

"You could have told me that before we started on the firewhiskey."

"How was I expected to know about the existence of something that only exists in your world, and then inform you that, it in fact, does not exist here and now?"

Harry just grumbled under his breath.

"And no more magic in the house, you insolent twit."

Snape turned towards the kitchen, and while his back was turned, Harry mimicked the short tempered professor.

"No magic in the house," he mockingly whispering the words back to himself. Closing his eyes and concentrating, he felt for the source of magic welling within him.

"Accio pants," he whispered, and the clandestine pair of jeans flew up from beneath the couch into his outstretched hands. Pausing, ears straining for any more electronic explosions, he breathed in relief when all was well.

"Oi, Snivellus! What's for breakfast? Lacewing flies?"

Snape was standing in front of the fridge, looking particularly grim. He then turned to the remains of the destroyed telephone.

"Quite, Potter. You will find my store in the basement. Feel free to help yourself." The older man closed the fridge, and sat down heavily in a kitchen chair. He went to lean forwards to lean on the kitchen table, before pausing, realising it remained broken at his feet.

"I think I'd prefer Chinese food if I'm honest," Harry admitted, pulling up a chair opposite the professor. Drawing his wand, he tapped the nearest piece of shattered telephone.

"Potter, stop!"

"Reparo," He incanted. Snape closed his eyes in preparation for another explosion. However, nothing occurred. Snape warily pried his eyes open. He spluttered, watching the telephone meld back together, the cracks in the plastic melting away. The small circuit boards within clicked into place without even a single crackle.

"I lived with muggles for half my life Snivellus. I know how to use magic without blowing up electronics," Harry said dismissively. He moved onto the kitchen table, and watched in satisfaction as it pieced itself back together.

"But- what- last night-"

"Huh, oh yeah, I was just having you on," Harry admitted. "Wanted to see how much I could push you till you popped."

"I take it back. You are far worse than father ever was," Snape snapped. He noticed Harry's green eyes flash coldly. Snape realised his mistake.

"The number for takeaway is on the fridge," Snape said instead. "You order. I'm having a shower."

"And fix the television while you're at it!" He called from down the hallway.

* * *

Harry stomped down the street angrily, his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans. The weather was annoyingly pleasant. Warm, as it was Summer, but partly overcast, with a soft refreshing breeze that played with his short hair. After the disaster of fourth year, he had promised himself he would never grow long hair again.

His thoughts turned to this world's Harry Potter. He wondered what he was like. He would be beginning fourth year in this reality. A part of Harry wished that he could ignore his brother. His interaction with his 'parents' had been horrible enough. He had no desire to repeat that with his supposed not-twin.

But… and it was an unstoppable claw, gripping his heart tighter and tighter, there was a stronger emotion within him. He recalled the Mirror of Erised. He knew, without a doubt, if he looked within the cursed mirror again his reflection would not have changed.

Harry sighed heavily. He knew it was a losing battle. But for now, he could ignore his feelings, and pretend that the only thing that mattered was Chinese food and another bottle of Snape's Firewhiskey.

He realised that the street he was walking down wasn't quite normal, per say. It wasn't immediately obvious, but there were a few telltale signs that began to show. Several owls perched on the windowsill of a nearby house. At the crossroads of the street, one corner displayed a pub, bustling with activity for lunch, while the other corner held a souvenir shop, that sold a combination of Muggle 'aura gems', and the more magical remembralls. Undoubtedly, Snape must be living in a wizarding community, made to blend in with the Muggles.

The pub seemed to the largest giveaway though. With an unmistakably wizard name, the Gryffyn. The venue had bottles of butterbeer sitting in the display window. The Chinese food shop lay just past the pub, and Harry curiously slowed down as he walked past. It really was busy. More so than he would have believed for simple lunch rush.

Several large posters were pinned to the front of the bar. There must have been a powerful notice-me-not charm blasted on, as the passerby's eyes slid directly past the billboard.

"Celebrating the birthday of the Chosen One, Harry Potter- Eugh, you've got to be fucking kidding me," Harry said, reading the poster out loud. It was created in typical magical fashion, with a large, moving portrait of this world's Harry Potter. Harry immediately viewed it with distaste.

"Seriously? Long hair? You're making a mistake kid, trust me."

Even with the black and white image, Harry knew, without a doubt, that this Harry Potter had the unmistakable bright green eyes of Lily Potter. Additionally (the little copy-cat), he had the same lightning bolt scar plastered on his forehead.

The celebration gave some clarity to Harry though. It must have been July 31st. He wondered if Snape would mind if he took a quick detour and downed some birthday shots.

However, with no ID, and technically no actual place within this world, Harry had no idea if he would be accepted.'

Reluctantly, Harry left the pub alone, and continued towards the more mundane Chinese restaurant. I was as typical as one could imagine. A metal bain-marie displaying various sweet and sour meats, while a basic white tiled floor retained a level of grubbiness that no amount of Muggle cleaning product would remove.

However, the staff were friendly, and an order was completed within a quarter of an hour. During that time, Harry had sat in a chair by the window. A large mansion sitting at the top of a nearby hill drew his attention. However, the building was stationary, and failed to maintain his focus. Instead, he began watching the pedestrians walk past.

He played a game with himself; Magical or Muggle. Based on their attire, he would (with strong bias), guess whether they were magical. Then, he would watch as they walked past the small one square meter muggle repelling charm he had earlier cast.

It was entertaining to watch Muggle families, pause, and cross the road for no apparent reason. It also helped that by the end of fifteen minutes, he was winning, thirteen points to four. It also helped that what he was doing was highly illegal and amounted to inappropriate manipulation of non-magical beings.

But hey, the order was taking longer than expected. What was a dimension traveller to do?

He watched as a young girl, could barely be a teenager, with long black hair walked past. He grinned. Time for round eighteen.

She was looking downcast, her eyes trailing the sidewalk, and not in the mood for celebrating a birthday. She was dressed in comfortable denim shorts and a white tank top.

That was two points for being a Muggle.

However, she walked straight through his repelling charm. Frowning, Harry added to his mental tally. Thirteen points to five.

He hated being wrong.

His order was ready though, and generous as he was for spending a certain amount of money, they handed him a free bag of prawn crackers. Nodding his thanks, he left the restaurant, a bell chime signifying his exit, and began the walk back to Snape's house.

"To Harrrrry Potta!" The door to the pub burst open, and two intoxicated males stumbled out, drinks in their hands, and arms thrown over one another's shoulders.

"The boy-who-" He hiccuped.

"What a lad."

They began stumbling to the side alley, where the industrial rubbish bins were stored.

"What an absolute… lad… I think I'm going to be sick…"

Harry was sure to give the two men quite a large breadth as he passed. They didn't look dangerous, but the cause of their celebration made his neck prickle. He didn't seem to be the only one. The black haired teenager from before was on the other side of the road, leaning against a light-post, and levelling them with a furious glare that was out of place on her young face.

"Classy, isn't it," Harry said softly, and the girl jumped, not realising how close he was. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I was just surprised to find someone else who wasn't enjoying the celebrations."

He held his hands out in front of him, showing her he meant no harm. He noticed that her wand, made of willow it seemed, was held in her left hand, subtly pointing at his lower body. She visibly relaxed, but the wand stayed where it was. Her eyes traced him up and down, before resting on his face. She snorted, not seeming to care how dignified it sound.

"Sure you aren't. Listen mister, your getups great. Absolutely nailed the green contact lenses, but you forgot the most important part."

He raised an eyebrow, curious as to where she was heading.

"Oh really? Do tell."

"The scar, you dope."

Eyes widening, Harry brought a hand up to his forehead. He prodded, tapped, even lightly slapped the base of his skull, but his skin was blemish free.

His scar was gone.

"That bloody thief stole my scar!" Harry exclaimed, shaking his fists at one of the Harry Potter posters, which smirked arrogantly back at him.

The girl giggled softly, and it made him pause. It was a carefree sound; childish and innocent. A sound he hadn't heard in a long time, especially not in his old world.

War changed children.

But she was staring at him with large hazel eyes, and he felt more special than he ever had felt as the Boy-Who-Lived. So heaven be damned, it might be more important to worry about why he no longer had his infamous scar, right now, all he cared about was hearing this girls laughter.

"As if I'd want to dress up as that arrogant wanker," Harry continued, revelling in his new role as entertainer. She further giggled, placing a hand over her mouth to muffle the noise.

"I'll have you know this is just how I look," Harry explained. "However…"

He glanced across the street. There were still many muggles mingling amongst the wizards. Slyly, he withdrew his wand, and a large notice-me-not charm enveloped the two of them.

Instantly she was on guard. She had taken a large step back and her willow wand was at chest height now. He frowned. This was the opposite of what he wanted.

Quickly, he banished his wand back into his holster. Again, he raised his hands, trying to show that he meant no harm.

"If I really wanted to look like pothead, I'd do this." Wiggling his hands and smirking mischievously, he combed his fingers through his short hair. As he did so, he dragged it down, and the hair grew and grew until it was sitting at his shoulders.

"I am Herry Porter," he said in a mockingly posh voice.

She stared at him in disbelief.

"I think long hair makes me look emotionally aware and edgy."

She snorted. It seemed he'd broken through. With an easy grin, he ran his hands back through his hair, shrinking it to his desired length. He glanced around, and finding a nearby wooden bench, resting in the fragments of afternoon sun that peeked through the clouds, he sat down, and gestured for her to do so with him.

"Nice reflexes, kid," Harry commented, and the girl blushed, realising her wand was still drawn. She quickly tucked it away sheepishly.

"Sorry. I just-" But Harry cut her off.

"No. Don't apologise," he reassured. "Those instincts will save your life one day."

"People usually tell me off for being so… jumpy."

Harry heard the catch in her words. She had been going to say something far more negative before she corrected herself. Sighing, Harry ruffled the back of his hair.

"Well, I'm not most people."

She smiled.

"I'm Evelynn, by the way."

He took in her features more closely. She had a significant spattering of freckles along the bridge of her narrow and defined nose. Her cheekbones were high and sharp, and eerily reminded him of aunt Petunia.

He shivered internally.

"I'm Harriatus, but you can call me Harry."

She blinked at him dumbly.

"That _was _a joke, right?" She asked cautiously.

"Not my best, I will admit," he replied unabashed. "Prawn cracker?"

"What?"

"Prawn cracker?"

He held out the back of pink, deep fried rice puffs. Her mouth o'd in understanding, and she tentatively took one.

He watched in amusement when, before immediately eating, she withdrew her wand, and tapped the cracker. A soft blue aura briefly emanated from it, declaring it safe from tampering.

Evelynn raised her eyebrows at him, threatening him to laugh, or admonish her, but he simply smiled with half his mouth.

"That's good, Evelynn. Alternatively, you can always let the person who offers you the food eat first. If you cast a spell in front of their face, and it goes red, then they'll know that you know, and you'll have lost the element of surprise."

Lecturing was easy. It was so incredibly easy to fall back into the persona of Professor Potter who briefly led the DA. Evelynn seemed to be drinking in his words greedily. He noticed, with a faint amount of pride, that she took the constructive feedback far better than all of his previous pupils, except Luna.

But Luna was Luna. That was a special case.

"You don't treat me like a child," she noted. "Everyone else does. I hate it."

She fell silent, but the unsaid question lingered in the air.

"When I was your age, I ran into a bit of trouble at school." It was an understatement, but she didn't need to know the whole story. "The professors kept things from me. Thought I wasn't ready. Because of that, things that could have been stopped, happened."

His mind wandered to his godfather, Sirius Black. If Dumbledore had told Harry about the prophecy earlier, than maybe…

Evelynn nodded, understanding.

"Well, it's nice," she said softly. "Being treated like an adult, I mean. Not your story." She quickly began babbling as she tried to correct herself.

"Prawn cracker?" He offered, holding the bag towards her like a truce offering.

"Yes please," she replied gratefully, grabbing a single pink cracker, and immediately took a bite out of it.

"Shouldn't you be taking that food somewhere?" Evelynn asked, pointing at the bag of Chinese take away containers. "Before it gets cold?"

"It's alright," Harry replied easily, and tapped the contents with his warm. "_Thermite_," he incanted.

"You know it never tastes as good after using a warming charm," she commented.

"I know, I know!" Harry grumbled. "Hermione used to tell me that all the time."

Evelynn seemed to stiffen, her back going rigid. She relaxed quickly, but Harry noticed her sudden reaction. He wondered if she cared about food that much.

Harry decided he really didn't want to ruin the good mood he was finding himself in, by returning to Snape's dour abode. Still holding his holly wand, he tapped three loose empty butterbeer bottles that were beginning to litter the street. The glass appeared to be shivering as it distorted. Sharp edges jutted out from either side, settling into transparent wings. The rest of bottle continued to transform until it resembled a small robin like bird.

Evelynn held out her hand in fascination as one of the transparent birds perched on her long, delicate fingers. The birds had maintained their glassy appearance, and were cool to the skin when touched.

They fluttered around the witch and wizard, before plucking the edges of the plastic bag with their beaks. It was a heavy load, but with their combined efforts they were able to lift and carry them away down the street.

"Prawn cracker?"

He had kept the gratuitous bag of crackers, obviously.

"That was beautiful," Evelynn said softly, grabbing a cracker subconsciously. "You're quite good with magic, aren't you Harry?"

"A little," he admitted. There was no reason to lie.

They were content to be quiet as they sat on the warm, wooden bench by the bus stop. The crunched on prawn crackers, taking note of the various pub-goers who passed through the premise. Time continued to pass though, and eventually more and more of the wizards celebrating were being thrown out on their drunk asses, until finally, Evelynn sighed heavily.

"I have to go," Evelynn admitted, a slither of sadness escaping into her voice. The afternoon sun was beginning to settle behind the distant hill with the mansion on top. "Mum and Dad will notice if I'm gone for too long. It was nice meeting you though."

She paused, hesitating on what she wanted to say, but her courage broke through.

"Do you think we'll ever see each other again?"

"You know what? I think we will," Harry said firmly, and he truly believed it. "See you round, Evelynn."

"Call me Eevie."

"Alright then. See you round, Eevie."

Her resulting, blinding smile was worth it. It lit up her hazel eyes that were framed by the dark, raven hair.

She picked herself up from the seat, brushed the pink crumbs from her bare legs.

"It's weird, y'know," she said as she was heading away. "You look just like my brother, and you've got the same name."

She shook her head, removing the errant thoughts.

"See ya, Harry!"

"See you later, Eevie," he called as she walked away. He continued to sit at the bench by himself, until the sun truly settled behind the hill. He shivered, feeling goosebumps trail up his arms.

It wasn't the cold that triggered it though, but rather, remnants of her final words.

He knew it to be true. Even if he had no actual proof, he just knew.

"Eevie," He murmured to himself. "Evelynn Potter."

"I need another bottle of Snape's Firewhiskey"

* * *

Evelynn Potter, Eevie to her friends, lay in her room in Potter manor, wondering precisely what had happened to those particular friends. A tawny owl sat in the corner of the room, noisily plucking at it's feathers, awaiting a response from the black haired teen.

She sighed. She wished Ginny was still around. If she were, they could have stayed up late, together, deciding what electives to take for third year, and discussing the hilarity that divination. was

She knew Ron would talk to her, and prompt her to take the easy way out, and pick Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, but he was a year above her. Even if they were in the same elective, they wouldn't be in the same class. Even worse, she wouldn't be able to borrow his notes from last year, as they were unsurprisingly non-existent.

But… perhaps he wouldn't joke around like that. Ron hadn't quite been the same since her first year. Since the Chamber of Secrets was opened.

She fell backwards onto her bed with a floomph, letting the soft down quilt envelop her. It was red and gold, in the Gryffindor colours of course, and made her feel a little more at home.

Potter Manor has never really felt like home to her. However, with James and Lily currently away on a 'business trip', and with her brother Harry being unseen since the last day of Hogwarts, it was like living in a stranger's shed. A magnificent, three storied, four acre, 16th century shed. Fancy, but leaving a taste of rust and cobwebs in her mouth.

It was late though. James and Lily had left yesterday. A sudden patronus in the middle of the night had announced that their 'business trip' had been extended. They said they wouldn't be out late, but had not specified when they would be back. But now it was late, and Eevie was becoming… not quite angry, but something akin to it.

If she'd known they were going to be this late, she wouldn't have rushed home from the village, and continued chatting with Harry. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to squeeze the discomfort from her heavy heart. She hadn't felt like this with Harry. He was the first adult who had actually treated her with some modicum of respect. Not brother Harry, of course. She was thinking about stranger Harry. It was confusing having two Harry's in her life.

When her parents had mentioned where they were going, she had wanted to come along. But her parents had something important to do at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and had bluntly refused to take her long, even when she promised to do extra chores for the rest of the week.

She rolled over, pouting into her Chudley Cannons pillow, courtesy of Ron. The owl hooted impatiently, and she gave it the finger in return. Sirius had taught her that. Sirius would have snuck her into Hogwarts, without a doubt.

If only he…

The heavy, dull creaking of the front doors echoed through the halls, and a faint 'Mister and Misses Potters have returned!' confirmed her parents entrance. Quickly, she grabbed her wand from the bedside table and muttered a soft charm. The nearby lights deluminated, sucked away into an unknown void, and the room was shrouded in darkness. Through a combination of memory, and flickering moonlight through the gap in her curtains, she stealthily navigated out of her room, edging towards the second floor banister that overlooked downstairs.

Her woolen Weasley socks were the perfect stealth gift. She made barely a whisper across the lacquered wooden floor. The first floor was illuminated by more magical lights, so she slipped down to her belly as she closed towards the banister. Her shoulder length raven hair fell in her eyes, and she used a hand to hold it back while she quirked her head to the side, straining to hear every word.

"I really thought that was going to work," Lily spoke softly, sounding disheartened.

"Technically, it kind of worked, it did summon-"

"That's not my son!" Lily shouted. Eevie dropped her head down as her parent's went quiet, wondering if they had woken her.

"I know, honey, I know," James said reassuringly. "It's just a lot to take in. A lot has happened lately. I'm worried about them."

"Them?"

"Harry, and Remus," He replied.

"You don't actually believe Remus' lies," She hissed.

"No, of course not!" he said, backpedalling quickly. "I don't get why he thinks that, or why he's so angry at Harry. But it's not just him. McGonagall was furious as well."

"Minerva has spout nothing but lies about Harry since he first arrived at Hogwarts. It's no surprise to see that she's on Remus' side."

Eevie clenched her fists, relishing the feeling of her nails driving deep into the skin on her palm. Professor McGonagall hadn't ever lied about Harry Potter. Her parents were just too enamoured with her brother to possible believe he might not be the perfect golden child they wanted him to be.

She'd heard enough. Whatever her parents had been doing for the last two days, it hadn't worked, and Harry was still missing, and they had obviously been wallowing in their pity, leaving her alone and lonely. She crawled back to her room, gently closing the door shut, and tucking herself under the covers. The tawny owl gave a soft, angry hoot, but seemed to have given up for the night.

It was a bittersweet feeling not having her brother home. It was impossible to not care about him. He was family, and she missed the way he used to look after her, even if he was only a year older.

However, she couldn't lie to herself. She felt safer at home without him.

The night was late, and sleep took her easily. As she drifted, her mind drifted over the recent conversation, settling on a particular word; summon. It was a curious word. Powerful in it's limitless potential. She fell asleep, thinking about a summoned hero, or perhaps, a personal guardian.

Someone who could make her feel safe again.

* * *

**AN/**

**I got my mojo back :)**

**Happy Christmas to anyone reading this within the next 48 hours. I hope it's a brilliant, highly commercialised, capitalist quota fulfilled unforgettable day. **

**There's probably going to be some grammar/spelling errors in this story. I don't proofread very well. I just type lots. Apologies friends.**

**Enjoy, and as always, thanks for reading.**

**Cheers**

**-Council**


	3. Chapter 3

**The Otherside**  
**Chapter 3**

* * *

"I hope you don't intend to spend the rest of your life drinking my liquor stores and sleeping on my couch?"

Harry groaned and opened his eyes, allowing the muted ceiling lights to blind his eyes. He blinked dumbly as he stared at Snape, who was not dressed in his casual home attire. Instead, he had his more familiar Hogwarts attire of a black button undershirt and a long, sweeping black cloak.

"You look particularly greasy today," Harry commented as he wiped the sleep from his eyes tiredly. He grabbed his nearby gray shirt and pulled it over his head, and quickly slipped into his denim jeans.

"I am responsible for guiding the first year muggleborn dunderheads through Diagon Alley," the dour professor explained.

"Ah. I see you're going for a strong first impression," Harry replied. "You should show them your bat transformation."

"Unlike you pathetic father, I don't have an animagus form, Potter."

"I know that. I just meant you could flap your cloak around a bit and caw loudly."

"That would be a crow, you dolt."

"I could come by and hang you upside down as you do so."

"That would be a mistake."

"But also an unforgettable first impression." Harry chuckled at Snape's profound disamusement. "All I'm saying is that if you're batty enough-" Harry dodged the television remote being thrown at him. "Then you might scare them off from coming to Hogwarts in the first place."

Snape paused, the jar of flobberworms that was about to be launched at the teen resting in his hand.

"Less muggleborn dunderheads… that is a fair point."

"See, so all you have to do is let me cast _levicorpus_ on you and-"

"I will proceed to be as distasteful and resentful towards the families. More so than I have ever been in the past."

"Wait, that's not what I-"

"Brilliant idea, Potter." And before Harry could stop him, Snape stepped out of the house, his billowing cloak sweeping out behind him. Harry proceeded to stare at the closed door for a full minute.

"That's not good."

Part of him wondered whether he should follow the overgrown bat, and provide some sort of damage control. However, the more he got ready for the day, the less the idea appealed to him. It was… refreshing being out of the eyes of the wizarding world. He didn't want to do anything weird and accidently stand out.

So he stayed in the living room with a bottle of (Snape's) firewhiskey and tumbler, intermittently summoning cubes of ice from the freezer with a twist of his fingers. He flicked through the television, allowing the dull noise to pass through him like static.

His only brief outing was to the local town to purchase some lunch for himself. He astutely avoided The Gryffn, and instead went to a muggle convenience store that lay opposite the road, purchasing a pre-made sandwich and a pasty. The shop owners were overly friendly, and eager to make his acquaintance, being a new face in town, but he hurriedly left the shop instead.

When he returned home, he continued to drink from the half-empty bottle of alcohol, forgoing the pleasantries of the tumbler and ice. He entertained himself by watching the sunlight slowly peer through the furthest window, creeping slowly across the wooden floorboards like a prowling feline.

He was jerked out of his observations by the slamming of the front door. Harry watched, curiously, as Snape strolled into the living room, a skip in his step, and a large smile on his face.

"Stop, you'll give me nightmares." Harry said, groaning and shielding his eyes.

"I just had the most successful day of scaring muggleborns," Snape explained.

"Why did Dumbledore think it was a good idea to give you this job?"

"He didn't. The staff delegate the role between themselves."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I lost a bet with Minerva about the Quidditch house cup."

"Ouch."

"Quite. Your fame-obsessed doppelganger has an unfortunate reputation of catching the snitch first."

"Yes. That's the point of the game."

Harry noticed that even talking about Slytherin losing the quidditch wasn't enough to pull down Snape's unnaturally joyous smile and attitude. Deciding if quidditch wouldn't, then nothing would.

And it was no fun trading insults with Snape if he remained joyous throughout.

Grumbling he went back to watching television, and drinking the remaining dregs from the glass bottle.

"And what productive accomplishments have you achieved today, Potter."

"What are you, my father?"

Snape just snorted.

"As disturbing as that would be, I do feel some sort of paternal instinct to remind you that you've been sleeping on my couch for an entire week."

"So?"

"You've drunk my entire store of alcohol!"

"Correction. There's half a bottle left," Harry held up the empty bottle of firewhiskey, but then stared at in surprise. "Huh. it's gone."

"If I wasn't in such a good mood, Potter, you'd be out on your backside," Snape threatened. The threat was made far more terrifying by the genuine smile on his dour face.

"Creepy child-torturer bat," Harry muttered under his breath. It was finally dark outside, and Snape had moved into the kitchen to prepare dinner. He was shortly interrupted though when the fireplace erupted into flames. Harry recognised Minerva's bespectacled face within the flames. They made eye contact. A part of him hoped that she would smile thinly and offer him a metaphorical biscuit, like she would have in his world.

But she pointedly ignored his presence and instead called out for Severus.

"You don't have to check on me Minerva. I did a brilliant job scaring- I mean, guiding, the muggleborns today."

She ignored him.

"We need you in Diagon Alley, Severus. Death Eaters have attacked." Her words were short and hurried.

"Damn," Snape muttered. "How dare those filthy wizard scum. They're going to upstage all the scaring I did today!"

Minerva obviously felt like that didn't justify a response, so she simply disappeared from the flames, freeing the fireplace for Snape to floo from. He grabbed his wand, summoned various bottles of potions, which vanished into his robes, and then turned to Harry.

"Well?" The professor asked, his face grim, but his eyebrow raised questionably.

"Well what?" Harry replied, sitting on the couch, watching with disinterest.

"Well, are you going to be useful for once?" Snape snapped. "Merlin knows we need all the help we can get these days."

"Mmm." Harry pretended to think about it, leaning back into the sofa. "Nah, I'm good. Have fun without me though."

"Potter-"

"Snape!" Harry interrupted. "This isn't my world. This isn't my fight. I have no obligation to join you and the stupid order."

Harry was adamant in his response, and he has his reasons, but he still had to try and not feel guilty when Snape leveled a disappointing glare at him.

"So be it."

Harry watched as the professor disappeared in a whirl of flames. Eventually the crackling embers subsided and the house was again quiet. The lack of alcohol in the house dissuaded his usual activity, so he settled for watching the television again.

It was all rubbish and nonsense. The comedy failed to make him even blow breath out of his nose. The news was either incredibly biased or uninformative gossip. The documentary about the ancient civilisations clashed heavily with the magical truth the muggle's failed to detect.

He settled for watching the clock on the wall. He noticed that every time the second hand passed between 22 and 23 seconds, it would stutter, and then jump forwards a second later, all the way to the 25 second mark..

This ceased to happen however after the minute hand passed the 36th minute.

A distant rumbling echoed through the sky, and Harry frowned. The weather forecast that he had only been half paying attention to had not said anything about thunderstorms. The air however felt eerily charged; the suspense of electricity was building in the air.

There was more rumbling, and Harry dragged himself off the couch, stumbling slightly as he did so. He glanced at the fire. It was still devoid of embers. He wondered how long until Snape would be back.

Not that he missed the slimy git. Not at all.

The third rumble pushed Harry into action. There was something about it that didn't sit right with him. He summoned his wand to his with a flick of his wrist, tripped over an empty glass bottle, and made his way to the front door.

He frowned, peering up at the night sky, wondering why everything was so blurry. He pushed his glasses onto his nose, but poked himself in the eyes instead.

"Frick that hurt," Harry swore. Realising that the whole world was blurry due to a lack of glasses, he summoned them with his wand. Unfortunately, he also managed to summon Snape's collection of magnifying glasses.

It was all too much for his mind to process, so he simply put his glasses on, and left the rest on the front lawn.

That was tomorrow Harry's problem.

He made his way into the village centre. He wondered if there was another celebration occuring. Perhaps it was 'Happy Birthday Plus One Week To The Chosen One' day.

Still, he steadily made his way into town. He sheathed his wand in his back pocket after passing a muggle couple who stared at him cautiously. However, upon recollection, that may have been due to the lack of shower smell combined with the alcohol that probably reeked from his body.

As he neared the village centre, the noises became louder, and the screaming became more distinct. He hesitated, memories flooding into his mind from his old world. He recalled the Quidditch World Cup, when the Death Eater's attacked the local muggles. It was eerily similar.

The sudden sound of gunshot apparation erupted from behind him, and he swore, running forward further into the town. Glancing behind him, he saw the unmistakable dark robes of two wizards. He ran, his heart beating heavily in his chest, and before he knew it, he was in the village centre.

The Gryffn was on fire. The glass display window was shattered, and the wooden barstools and tables within were alight with crackling fire. The overhanging pub sign was on the ground, shattered in two pieces. The convenience store Harry had bought lunch from was, although not on fire, in an even worse condition. Two of the walls were completely blasted down, the roof was hanging at a terrible slant, every single window was shattered, and the metal shelves inside were twisted into spirals at unnatural angles.

A dark shadow loomed over Harry, and he nervously looked up at the sky. He felt his mouth go dry. His vision blurred. His fingers felt like ice. His lungs forgot how to breath. His pulse throbbed in his head, upsetting his sanity.

The Dark Mark was rising in the night sky, billowing up higher and higher, drowning out the half-moon and the rest of the twinkling star light. The smokey snake wrapped itself around the skull, it's body poking and slithering through the empty eye sockets.

Adrenaline was flooding through his body, and he knew he was leaning more towards flight than fight. There were no anti-apparation wards. All he had to do was hide down an alley and escape back to Snape's house.

But as he turned to leave, he saw a young teenage girl with black hair sprint into the village centre. Behind her, two robed wizards were chasing her, wands alight, firing curse after curse.

Harry knew he still had time to leave. This wasn't his fight. He had already sacrificed his life for one Dark Lord. He had no intention of ever fighting again, and he could leave this very second.

But it would mean turning his back on the only family he had ever known.

He saw himself, eleven years old, standing in an unused classroom in the restricted library. His mirror self smiled back at him. In the back right corner, he could see a girl that looked identical to Evelynn Potter.

She had turned to face the two Death Eater's, and was doing well dodging and shielding against them, but it would only be a matter of time until she slipped up.

"Alright Potter. You can do this," he murmured to himself, bouncing on the balls of his feet, trying to ignore the mild swaying that occur from his inebriation. His voice began growing louder in confidence. "You've got this. You can do this. I can do this!"

His whipped his holly wand out in a rapid motion. Then, with a long, drawling swirl of the stick, he commanded the fallen debris and dust that lay at Eve's feet into a wailing whirlwind. There was a brief reprise as the dark curses impacted the floating rubble, and Harry stepped out towards Eve confidently.

"Good work, Eve."

"Harry!" She cried in relief, as the whirling storm around her subsided. Harry grinned at her, pleased to see that she was unharmed.

"How about I teach you a few things about how to duel, while we're here," He decided, his chest puffed out proudly, and his eyes sharp and glittering like emeralds. A curse seared towards him, but he deflected it with the tip of his wand, slamming the pink spell into the dirt.

Harry raised his eyebrows at the cloaked wizards.

"You'll do."

The tension and fear Eve had been feeling earlier faded as she stood behind Harry. She felt an unknown pulling emotion that told her to trust him, and so she did.

"There are three main rules you should always follow when duelling with a wand," Harry explained, while turning towards the Death Eater's.

"Always face towards your opponent, with your body side on," he demonstrated as so, and grinned when a curse flew to his left, missing him by half a foot. "You make yourself a smaller target, and it becomes much easier to avoid any incoming curses."

Harry lazily tilted his head to the side, and dodged a violent rex hex.

"Rule number two. Use your environment."

With another long, swirl of his wand, Harry commanded the wind. This time, however, he dragged the black, putrid smoke that was spewing out of the Gryffn, and wrapped it around the two Death Eater's. They shouted, trying to dispel the smoke, but Harry continued to funnel it over.

He glanced at Eve who was trying to both pay attention to the lesson, and also watch in awe as he commanded his magic with ease.

Winking at the young girl, Harry transfigured one half of the Gryffn pub's broken sign into a simple mannequin. The second half of the sign was also transfigured into a small device. Putting a finger to his lips, he silently apparated away.

The Death Eater's were reducing the smoke, and it was slowly becoming thinner. It was now possible to somewhat see through the black smog and observe the hazy wizards within.

"Finally. Be unpredictable."

The Death Eater's fired dual curses at the origin of the voice, and they struck with frightening accuracy.

However, the voice had originated from Harry's second transfiguration; a brass gramophone. Standing behind the confused Death Eater's, Harry was easily able to fire a simple, but powerful stunning spell, cleanly knocking one of them out.

"Simple, right?" Harry asked, his voice still resonating through the gramophone.

Eve just nodded dumbly.

"Now it's your turn."

She paled, and the freckles spattering the bridge of her nose became visible with the contrast. The remaining wizard fired a trio of rapid spells at Harry, but he apparated out of view, and landed beside Eve.

Harry summoned the unconscious Death Eater, and floated him in front of them like a human shield, causing the remaining wizard to halt his spellfire. Then, having given himself a temporary lapse in fighting, he glanced at the young girl.

"Harry, I don't feel comfortable-" Harry interrupted her by placing a hand gently on her shoulder.

"You don't have to Eve, but this is me not treating you like a child. I'm giving you a chance. Can you prove to me I'm not wrong for trusting you."

She was silent, her chin tucked down into her neck, her eyes boring a hole into the ground. Then, she came to a conclusion, and her fingers clenched firmly around her willow wand. Slowly, her gaze lifted. Her emerald eyes, so similar to Harry's, were steeled with confidence.

With a crack, Harry apparated ten feet behind her, and ruffled the back of his unruly hair as he began observing.

"Step One. Stand side on."

Eve listened to Harry and turned herself sideways.

"Point your toes forwards towards your opponent, and balance your weight on the tips of your toes."

She shuffled her feet into position, and winced as a spell passed by her ear, hissing loudly. While the Death Eater looked frustrated, Eve took confidence in the miss, and stood up a fraction straighter. The next curse was cast with more accuracy, but it was simple for her to push through her toes and leap to the side, deftly dodging.

She thought Harry might have been saying something from behind her, but it had become a muted buzz in her ears. Her entire concentration was focused on the man in front of her. It was a scene of chaos. To the right, plumes of fire continues to escape the pub, and directly behind the dark wizard lay the destroyed convenience store.

"_Flipendo_," she shouted loudly, casting the simple knockback jinx. The Death Eater didn't even bother dodging the weak spell, and deflected it downwards.

Eve smirked as the knockback jinx struck the ground, and caused dust to blow upwards, obstructing the man's view.

"_Accio_," She then whispered very softly, trying to mask her voice. She was still unable to cast silently, so it was the best she could do to hide her spellwork.

The Death Eater was dispelling the smoke with a flick of his wand, but never even noticed the twisted, metal display shelf slam into his back. He fell to the ground with a sickening crunch, and only the soft rise and fall of his chest showed them he was still alive.

The sounds and smells of the world came rushing back to Eve in a sweeping influx. It was overwhelming, like being sucked out of a vacuum. The sound of roaring fire surrounded her. She could taste the vividly bitter ash lingering on her tongue as she panted heavily.

Her heart was going to explode.

She jumped as a hand toucher her shoulder. she twirled around, her wand whipping up in self-defence, ready to strike her enemy.

"Well done, Eve. You can rest now."

Harry looked calm, and proud. He didn't push Eve's wand away, or look frightened by her animalistic panic that was flashing in her eyes. His cool composure caused Eve's mind to settle.

Her heart wasn't going to explode.

The enemy was incapacitated.

They had won.

Before her adrenaline and the associated confidence faded, she leapt forwards and wrapped her arms around Harry's middle in a strong, encompassing hug.

"Thank you, Harry," she whispered. "Thank you so much."

Harry was frozen, unsure of how to respond. He wasn't great with hugs. Hell, he wasn't great with physical touch in general. However, it seemed like the right thing to do to lean over and pat her back gently.

"Don't thank me. That was all you."

She giggled, leaning into his chest, and in that moment, Harry swore he'd do everything in his power to protect her.

"_Hemoxidus_!"

Harry turned, and saw a third Death Eater had arrived. Harry turned, wand ready. It was a blood-acid transfiguring curse, dyed green in colour. He had seen it countless times, and it would be easy to deflect it with a shield charm.

But Harry's wand arm froze. He felt ice cold chills steal his focus. The dull green curse seemed to grow brighter, until it blinded his vision.

He was standing in the Forbidden Forest. Voldemort stood opposite him, his long, ebony wand pointed directly at Harry's heart. Harry stood there. He didn't move. He watched Voldemort's stretched smile, and heard his manic laughter echoing around him. He let the killing curse envelop him.

A scream of pain tore him back to reality. He was lying on the ground. Something was wrong with his body. Every single nerve ending felt like it was burning in acid. Faintly, he realised the screams were his own.

Eve was standing her ground. Her black hair swished around her shoulders and plastered along her sweaty face. This Death Eater was not surprised like the first, and was not underestimating his opponents like the second, and Eve was struggling to overpower him.

He held a powerful shield charm in the air that encompassed his head and most of his body. Every spell and hex she casted at him simpled fizzled out when it struck the shield. She tried to aim for the vulnerable legs and arms, but it was too small and difficult of a target, and her spells went wide.

Meanwhile, she was positioning herself well, and she was dodging the curses he sent at her, but it was only a matter of time until he got lucky and one landed. Worse, Eve didn't recognise a single spell he was casting. She assumed they were all dark, and that if any hit her she would be out of the fight, but it would have been reassuring to at least know what might be her cause of death.

The entire time, she tried not to let Harry's screams distract her from the fight. The sounds made her heart wrench in agony. She wished she could pick him up and apparate away, but she didn't have the foggiest how to.

The Death Eater started to stalk slowly forwards, closing the gap between them. Eve couldn't retreat, lest she leave Harry in the way of fire, but everytime the Death Eater stepped forwards, she felt herself losing control of the battle.

With less distance to travel, his curses had become more accurate, and she was struggling to dodge. Eventually, she had to stop casting, and raise a shield charm of her own to deflect the spells. She didn't understand how the man was casting while maintaining a shield charm, but his greater knowledge gave him too strong of an edge in the duel.

Harry groaned in pain. Eve didn't want to lose this battle. She simply couldn't.

In a flash of inspiration, she recognized one of the dark spells; the bone breaking curse. Without hesitation, she ducked out of the way of a more nefarious spell, and purposely into the bone breaker. She yelped, more in shock than in pain, as her left shoulder and humerus shattered, and she fell to the ground in a heap.

The Death Eater paused in his assault, briefly basking in his victory. He maintained his body high shield charm, and with a gutteral chuckle, pointed his wand at her.

Eve was quicker though. With her wand hidden away beneath her hunched over body, she flicked it rapidly to the side, muttering a second-year jinx.

"_Infumblia_," she hissed, casting the tripping jinx at the feet of the Death Eater, underneath the protection of his shield charm. He grunted as he collapsed to the ground, and Eve followed up by casting three knockback jinxes at his head in quick succession. His mask was blown off from the force of the spells, and Eve spotted dark red blood pooling down the man's temple.

For the second time that night, the adrenaline left her body, and she felt incredibly weak and feeble. A throbbing pain began to emanate from her left upper arm, and she winced as she glanced at her mangled bones. Harry had finally stopped screaming, but when she stumbled towards him she discovered that probably wasn't a good thing. He was incredibly pale, his lips were thin and white, and his skin was covered in a sheen of unhealthy sweat.

She didn't know what he'd been hit with, and even if she did, she probably wouldn't have been able to help. She glanced up towards the mansion on the top of the hill in the distance, and then back down at Harry's unconscious body.

"This is going to hurt like hell," She muttered, waving her wand at Harry. "_Wingardium Leviosa_."

He levitated gently in the air, but his limp arms and legs made him sway like a ragdoll. It didn't look overly comfortable, so perhaps his unconsciousness was a blessing.

She pointed her wand forwards, and like a conductor, led Harry forwards as she began the long walk. Eve hissed every time her feet hit the ground, the soft jolt shuddering her shoulder. Even so, she didn't stop walking until they were home.

* * *

Harry awoke suddenly, his breaths coming out raspy and heavy. His body felt like it had been electrocuted, and the uncomfortable tingling that remained was both painful and numbing.

He grasped for his wand, or his glasses, but his fingers felt unfamiliar surfaces. He definitely wasn't on Snape's couch, and for sure wasn't in the hospital wing.

"Easy there, kid," a deep, reassuring voice said. "You're safe here. I didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon though."

"Glasses," Harry said, his voice croaking. He could use some water too, he thought.

"Of course." There was some shuffling, and eventually the cool metal frames were pressed into his hand. "You really are just… you've got my bad eyesight, and those eyes are unmistakably Lily's."

Harry put his glasses on, and realised who he was talking to. James Potter sat on a plush chair, opposite the bed Harry was resting on. Harry greedily drank in his father's visage. He had more wrinkles around his eyes than he expected, and his hair was beginning to recede. However, he was unmistakably James Potter, and what hair he did have still stuck up in an untamed fashion, not dissimilar to a bird's nest.

"You were hit by a-"

"By a blood-acid curse," Harry confirmed. James raised an eyebrow behind his rimmed glasses.

"I'm surprised you know that. You look a little too young to have done any dark curse training."

Harry swallowed, looking away from his pseudo-father.

"I had to grow up fast in my world. I had a few people teach me along the way."

"I see." James didn't have anything extra to say, and he began looking around the room. Eventually, he zoned back in on Harry.

"From what I've heard, you saved my daughter's life."

"From how I'm feeling, it seems she saved mine too, so I'd say we're even."

James chuckled softly.

"You're not entirely wrong. Poor bugger carried you half a mile with a broken shoulder," James criticized, but there was pride tinged in his voice. He sighed, briefly taking his own glasses off and squeezing the bridge of his nose. "Of course it was highly irresponsible for her to be out in the first place. She will be grounded for the rest of the summer holidays."

"She wasn't trying to be irresponsible. She was trying to not be treated as a kid." Harry felt an unknown urge to defend the young girl. To defend his sister.

"Her actions tonight only supported that she still acts and thinks like a kid," James countered firmly.

"But without-"

"This is my family, not yours. Don't tell me how to raise my child." James snapped.

Harry yanked his stare away from James, staring resolutely at the bookcase at the end of the room, else he let his emotions loose. James must have realised that he'd said something quite abrasive, as he cleared his throat loudly, but there was no apology.

"Yes, well. Lily was the one who undid the curse's affect on you. She's resting now," James said, explaining her absence. "You should sleep. In the morning you'll be fine, and you can return home."

"Thank you," Harry said, his tone sharp, his words coiled and contained. He maintained staring at the bookshelf until he heard James stand up and leave. Only when the door clicked shut softly did Harry relax. He let himself fall backwards heavily into the bed.

"I set myself up for that one," he muttered angrily to himself. He closed his eyes, willing himself not to cry, and tried to visualise his own parents. His real parents.

He wished they were here with him instead.

* * *

**AN/**

**Happy new decade all. I don't personally believe in NY resolutions, but I hope this year brings at least a little bit of happiness.**

**I'm currently halfway through building lego Harry Potter castles, and may have been a mite distracted. I'm sure you understand though.**

**Review, and the lego fairy will leave a 2x2 red block under your pillow. Just don't step on it.**

**Thank you for any and all support!**

**Cheers**

**-Council.**


	4. Chapter 4

**The Otherside**

**Chapter 4**

* * *

"Alright Snivellus, I've got an idea, but I need your help."

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that, Potter."

Harry and Snape sat across from each other at the familiar dining table. For the first time since Harry had arrived in the world, he was both awake and dressed before the Potion's professor, who was still wearing his dressing robe.

"How much savings do you have?" Harry asked bluntly, and Snape choked on the tea he was sipping on."

"I have to obligation to inform you of my personal information," he replied, his voice softly spoken but resolutely firm.

"Oh, come on Snivy."

"Even if I told you, what would your intentions be?" Snape scoffed. "Also, don't call me that either," he added quickly.

"Well… you know who the quidditch world cup starts soon?" Harry tried to sound as aloof as possible, but he knew that Snape had inferred his plan immediately.

"You want me to entrust my life savings to an underage drunk to gamble with?" He stated incredibly.

"Hey, I've quit drinking! I'm a changed man now," Harry whined, slamming his glass onto the table.

"What's that then?" Snape pointed at the half-empty bottle of ScorchScotch. The bottle looked expensive, and appeared to have been bottled in 1949, if the label was correct.

"This is an exception," Harry argued.

"Exception how?"

"I stole it- acquired it, from Potter Mansion."

The professor tapped his long finger against the wooden tabletop three times before coming to a decision.

"Pour me a glass too."

Grinning, Harry obliged, summoning another tumbler from the cupboard. He filled the glass quite generously and then topped his own back up.

"Cheers!" Harry tapped his glass to the edge of Snape's, and the two proceeded to savour the drink.

"Ah. Tastes like victory," Snape sighed, sounding refreshed.

"So… about that money?" Harry asked hopefully. Snape just glared at him, but it was less hostile than it had been before.

"I'm assuming you actually have some sort of plan?" He drawled.

"I've had a bit of spare time lately-" Snape snorted, but let the teen continue, "And have been browsing through the old newspapers." Flicking his fingers, a bundle of papers flew from the living room to the dining table. Snape raised his eyes, impressed. The black and white print was covered in red marker. Notes and comparisons were recorded around the edges, while important numbers and names were highlighted.

"You… have done quite thorough research," Snape assented.

"I've been trying to figure out what's different in this world compared to mine," Harry explained. "It's… complicated… but also quite obvious. Everything that this world's Harry Potter has interacted with, has changed from what happened in my world. Things like the Ministry of Magic positions, Quidditch World Cup results or international turmoil are all the same. However, incidents in Hogwarts, holidays related to the Boy-Who-Lived, the very existence of James and Lily… they're all things he interacted with."

"So, to summarise, Potter has such an inflated head, that he has the power to change an entire reality?"

"No. Not quite. Not even a little bit, actually. He has no special powers of the sort. Just, the two world's timelines seem to diverge at the instance of this world's Harry Potter."

"Is there a meaning to your inane rambling?"

"Quiet, Snivy." Snape grumbled under his breath, but didn't interrupt. ""The important thing is this. I need money. You have some money. I know what the results of the Quidditch World Cup are going to be, because it hasn't been changed so far. Putting two and two together…"

Harry trailed off his sentence suggestively, and Snape nodded in understanding.

"We could make a lot of money."

"Precisely", Harry said, loudly emphasising the word.

Snape drummed his long fingers into the table. The tapping struck at an even, controlled tempo.

"There are magical precautions in place that prevent time-travellers from gambling. You do know that?"

"Yes, yes. I know. I have to sign a contract, and if the magic determines that I have future knowledge, I will lose a significant portion, if not all of my magic."

"And despite this, you still wish to hoodwinking the system?"

"That's the greatest part Snivy. I don't have future knowledge. I have parallel universe knowledge. My magic will be safe."

Snape frowned. Harry knew that the show of emotion was a sign of victory for him. Snape was hooked. His fingers finally stopped drumming on the table.

"I have a little over a thousand galleons. It's my savings from working at Hogwarts. I will agree to loan you the money, under one condition," Snape bargained, "You will stop calling me by that ridiculous name!"

"You drive a hard bargain," Harry muttered.

"And I want 50% of the profits."

"What if I give you 75%, but I can keep calling you Snivy."

"... what kind of profits are we talking about here."

"With my knowledge of how the game is going to play, I can get us a sickle for every knut."

Snape swore softly under his breath.

"What do you say, Snivy?"

"80%, and we'll bet my life savings."

"Deal," Harry said quickly, reaching forward to grab the excited man's hand. "Please doing business with you, Snivy."

"...Somehow I feel I'm going to regret this…"

Harry didn't respond, happily whistling a soft tune to himself. Snape's emotions faded between excitement and resentment as he eyed the younger man. Eventually, Snape stood up, dusting his dressing gown of any spilt crumbs.

When long haired professor returned fifteen minutes later, he was dressed in his Hogwarts black attire, minus the billowing cloak. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Got more muggleborns to scare, do you?"

"I wish, Potter," he replied, sighing ungratefully. "I am under obligation by the headmaster to attend Black's funeral."

"Wait, Sirius is dead?" Harry exclaimed, leaping upright from his chair.

"Judging by your zealous response, I assume you had some relation with the man?" Snape queried. Harry didn't divulge many memories of his past world, but if Snape ever asked, he always answered in full.

"Yeah. Sirius was my godfather. Poor bloke." Harry fell back into his chair with a slump. "He didn't deserve to die a second time."

"Be that as it may, the unfavourable mutt is dead. Lord Black now remains the only surviving family member."

Harry pouted at Snape's hostility towards his Godfather, but the following sentence caught his attention.

"Hold on, Lord Black is alive? And what about Bellatrix, or Narcissa?"

Snape eyed Harry curiously, before shrugging, and explaining.

"I guess this was one of the changes from your world. Lord Black has always been a very reclusive man. So much so, that for thirteen years, he was completely hidden from the public eye."

"Seems sketchy," Harry commented. Snape didn't disagree.

"Three years ago, the Black family suffered sudden, extreme losses. Narcissa and her husband, Lucius, were killed in a house fire."

"Good riddance…"

"Just a month later, Bellatrix disappeared from her prison cell. No one really knows what happened to her. There are a lot of rumours. The proof of her demise was with the Goblin's, however, when the Lestrange vault was emptied due to a lack of surviving family or heirs."

"Something doesn't make sense though… why wasn't Sirius killed 3 years ago as well, when he was in Azkaban?"

"Out of all the Black's, and I am loathe to admit it, Sirius did not perform anything illegal enough throughout his life to justify an Azkaban sentence."

Harry's mouth opened in a wide circle as his brain struggled to process this information. It made sense, he supposed. James and Lily never died, hence, Sirius would not have been accused of betraying them.

"With the loss of two of his family members, Lord Black made a re-emergence into the public eye." Snape hesitated, before pushing forwards. "The rumours about Bellatrix? The most popular one is that Lord Black himself stole her from Azkaban, only to sacrifice her during a ritual for himself."

"A ritual?"

"When Lord Black returned to the Ministry of Magic after thirteen years, he apparently had not aged a day. In fact, some people even claimed that he looked even younger. Only incredibly dark magic would be capable of such feats."

"And if anyone had access to such dark magic, it would be the Black's," Harry finished.

There was a heavy silence between the two, before it was broken by Harry.

"It just doesn't make any sense? The Black family shouldn't have had anything to do with Harry at this point in the timeline. Why is it so different to my world?"

"I hope that doesn't foreshadow a loss in our financial endeavour?" Snape asked sharply, but Harry waved him off nonchalantly. "No, no. I've researched all the games for the last two years. The results are the same as my world." Snape raised an eyebrow, and Harry flushed slightly. "I was a big quidditch fanatic. I memorised a lot of the stats."

"I have already agreed. It would be foolish for me to retract my offer now," Snape replied, but he did sound rather terse. "Now, as inspiring and fascinating as our lovely conversation has been, I am now forced to leave you, and spent the next hour pretending to bemoan the loss of a flea-bitten mongrel."

"I'm coming with you."

"Potter, please. You don't have an invite."

"I'll be your plus one."

"That's not how funerals work!"

"I'll let you mutter all the insults you want to me throughout the service."

"...Acceptable."

* * *

The funeral was a sombre affair. Sirius would have hated it.

The sky was gray and overcast, despite being during the end of summer. The attendees wore dark black and gray clothing. Harry had though, surely James, the man's best friend, would know what Sirius would have truly wanted.

A fireworks display, and twin belly dancers doing their thing on his coffin.

James wasn't in charge of the funeral however. Harry sat at the back of the room, Severus grumbling beside him like an ungrateful child. He could see the back of Lord Black, who sat at the very front. He looked somewhat thin, and somewhat unhealthy, but his short hair and full beard were immaculately trimmed and groomed. It was hard to gauge from a distance whether the man was truly mourning his son or not.

There were many other familiar faces in the audience. James was sitting with Lily and Eve, close to the front. Nearby, several familiar Order of the Phoenix members sat, such as Kingsley, Moody and Tonks. Somewhat separated from them was Remus, who looked incredibly ragged in his worn out clothes. Albus Dumbledore sat on the other side of the room, surrounded by what appeared to be other important political individuals.

"May Sirius Black be remembered for what he truly stood for; friendship, courage, and unwavering loyalty to those he called family. May he rest in peace."

The spokesperson finished his speech, and the coffin was gently lowered into the ground. Harry raised an eye at the speech. Sirius held no loyalty to his blood family, but perhaps, in a weird twist, the eulogy was very fitting. Sirius had given his life for Harry in his world. Sometimes, the true family was that which you chose, not that which you're born with.

The ceremony was not what Harry would have preferred, but it provided him with a comforting sense of closure. His godfather has never received a funeral. There had been no body to bury, after all.

With the speeches finished, Lord Black slowly rose from his chair, and went to stand in front of the grave. With a wave of his wand, dirt began trickling over the edge like a muddy waterfall. It increased in volume and intensity, until suddenly he stopped, and the grave was filled.

Lord Black remained standing at the front, waiting for any attendee's to provide their condolences. Harry noticed that the Order and the Potter's steered clear of the man. There was obviously no love lost between them. Sirius had fled from his ancestral home to live with the Potter's at a young age. It was of no surprise that Sirius's true friends and family wanted nothing to do with the enigmatic Black.

Albus was obligated to greet the Lord Black. Curious, Harry stood from his chair, and made his way to the front.

"My sincerest apologies for what has transpired, Lord Black," Albus said sombrely. "I can't help but feel largely responsible, as his passing happened while on Hogwart's grounds."

"There is no blame upon your shoulders. Sirius, my son, was a headstrong and reckless boy. Whatever happened, I am undoubtedly sure his actions were his own undoing."

"Perhaps. He was more than reckless however. He was loyal to a fault," Albus added, defending his former pupil.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Lord Black replied drily. "Your concern is duly noted."

The response was a blunt dismissal, and Albus appeared to take the hint.

"Harry?"

Everyone in the room turned towards the source of the shout. The Order members in particular seemed to whip around much faster. Eve was running towards Harry, her black hair swishing around herself as she bounced energetically. She wrapped her arms around him in the largest hug her small arms could muster. Harry chuckled, returning the hug gently and patting her on the back.

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat, and Eve leapt off of Harry in shock.

She stood, blushing strongly, trying to sink into herself and become even smaller than she already was. The audience was staring at her, while Lord Black himself was glaring at her.

"Sorry, Lord Black," Eve mumbled. The man simply nodded, but then turned towards Harry, the source of the commotion.

"Interesting," the man said. "You must be a Potter."

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir," Harry replied.

"Hm. But not _the_ Harry Potter," Lord Black emphasised.

"That depends" Harry countered. Lord Black struggled to contain a small smile.

Harry understood the rumours about this man. He should have been over sixty years of age, but he looked no older than thirty-five. He displayed a striking resemblance to Sirius, but the lack of tattoos, the short hair, and the aristocratic way the man held himself clearly showed this was not the same man.

Those gray eyes were hauntingly familiar though, and they seemed to stare into Harry's soul.

"Evelynn, get back here!" Harry turned, distracted, as Lily hissed at her daughter to return. Eve, however, was blatantly ignoring her mother, and staring at Harry in shock.

"But… that's impossible," She stammered.

Harry glanced down at the kid, and felt bad about having deceived her.

"You can't be Harry Potter. You… you're too old. And too nice. And- and- and-" Eve seemed to be on the verge of breaking down. She wasn't the only one. The other members of the funeral were pointing, and whispering behind their hands.

"Eve, listen, I'm sorry," Harry began. "I'll explain it you properly, I promise."

"You'll do no such thing!" Lily snapped, marching towards her daughter and her pseudo-son. "You will leave my family alone. Haven't you already intruded enough!"

"Lily, dear," James said gently, resting a hand on her shoulder. James glanced at Harry, peering at him through his glasses. Then James spoke louder, addressing the entire crowd. "This man is Harry Potter. However, he is not our missing son. This man is a cousin, who had been living abroad, and has returned to British soil for the time being."

James turned to Lord Black, who still had a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Apologies, Lord Black, for the disturbance during your time of mourning. My family will take their leave."

James grabbed Eve by the wrist, and guided Lily at the waist, and the family made a hasty exit. Eve continued to stare back at Harry, her eyes wide, her emerald pupils flashing in confusion. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but then she was gone in a crack of apparation.

"I must say Harry, you don't do anything by halves," Albus said, gently joking. "I must apologise for… leaving you in the dark, since your arrival on British soil. Please, when you have some time, come visit me at Hogwarts."

"Thank you, sir. I will consider it."

Albus winked at Harry, gave his final words to Lord Black, and then left the funeral. The other occupants seemed to feel the atmosphere was heavier than they expected, and also began to make their leave.

"Now, Harry Potter, although I recall your name being on the invitation list, you are not the Harry Potter I expected to arrive."

Harry didn't say anything. He just eyed the man carefully. Those familiar gray eyes analysed him intensely in return. He noticed that Severus had finally stepped forwards from the back of the room, and was walking towards them. Lord Black ignored him, and continued to speak to Harry

"I would appreciate hearing some stories about how you knew my young son, Sirius, so well. Would it be amiss to invite you to mine for dinner tonight?"

Severus stepped in front of Harry, placing himself between the two.

"Apologies, Lord Black, but I am currently in charge of Harry's… return to British soil," Snape said, easily twisting his words. "I'm afraid he hasn't been here long. Perhaps, dinner with an esteemed lord such as yourself should wait?"

"Are you trying to tell me what to do, Snape?" Lord Black asked, his voice abruptly cold and unwelcoming. Harry stepped in, not wanting any more conflict.

"Severus, thank you, but it's fine," Harry said gently. Harry's use of his first name made the professor pause, and eventually relent. "I would be honoured, Lord Black."

"How does… seven sound?"

"Perfect. I shall see you at Grimmauld Place at seven."

Lord Black smiled victoriously.

"Yes. Yes you will."

* * *

**AN/**

**Short chapter, but it felt appropriate to end there.**

**I hope you're enjoying the story. I... am surprised to see how slow it's developing. I'm sure it's worse for you guys. I'm aware of that, and trying to move some plot points into line.**

**Also, I'm branching out into some other stories. More for the experimental aspect then anything, so we'll see how that goes.**

**After 8's for everyone reading this... unless it's before 8... then don't, that's illegal.**

**Cheers**

**-Council**


	5. Chapter 5

**The Otherside**  
**Chapter 4**

* * *

"And you're positive this is correct?"

"Yep."

Harry and Snape sat on the couch in the dining room, huddled around the Wizarding Wireless, listening to the game unfurl.

"So, Krum will catch the snitch, and Bulgaria will win by ten points?"

"Exactly."

Snape narrowed his eyes at the younger boy, who was nonchalantly reaching for another butterbeer.

"And they score yet another goal! Their chaser's are unstoppable, and Ireland lead one-hundred and forty to ten."

Ludo Bagman sounded positively thrilled as his voice echoed through the radio. Snape nodded his head thoughtfully, pleased with the current direction of the game, and reached for one of his own butterbeers.

"You never told me, Potter. What did Lord Black want with you?"

"Ah. A bit of this, a bit of that," Harry replied evasively. "Just discussing about future potential… business deals."

"Hmph." The professor clearly wasn't happy with the answer.

"So how much money did you put on the game?"

"My entire life savings."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"How much is that?"

"1227 galleons."

"And if they win?"

"What do you mean 'if', Potter?"

Harry held up his hands defensively as Snape rounded on him.

"I mean when, when they win."

"...Payout of 33,127 galleons."

Harry whistled softly, and even the dour professor grinned evilly.

"And yet another goal scored by the Irish front-runner, putting the score up to 150-10."

Snape grinned even wider.

"This is it. Now the overgrown ice monkey just had to catch the snitch"

"You mean Krum?"

"Yes, Potter. I mean Krum. Don't interrupt me in my happy time."

Snape's butterbeer lay forgotten and untouched on the table, whereas Harry took a large, refreshing sip from his own bottle.

"You shouldn't drink so much."

"This is social drinking," Harry whined.

"It's still alcohol."

"You're still a git."

"Ireland are unstoppable! What an incredible feat. After another goal, Ireland are 150 points ahead. Not even Krum catching the snitch will win Bulgaria the game now!"

Snape's eyes whipped away from the radio he had been staring at, and was now glaring at Harry, who had the decency to look away sheepishly.

"Potter. What is happening?"

"It's fine, Snivy. Bulgaria get a last minute goal and then catch the snitch."

"And right off the bat, Ireland score again! 170 to 10 points. What an upset!"

"Potter!"

Harry jumped off the couch from beside the professor before he could manhandle him.

"You insolent, incompetent twit."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Harry said quickly, his eyes widening as Snape drew his wand. "I'll pay you back if you lose, I promise."

"How are you possibly going to be able to do that. You didn't have any money in the first place. That was the entire point of this whole ridiculous debacle."

Harry was saved from answering when a knock at the front door resonated down the hallway.

"I'll get it," He said with a cheeky smile.

"Potter! Get back here!" Snape roared.

"Incredible! Absolutely incredibly. Krum has caught the snitch, and yet, in perhaps the most upsetting turn of events, Ireland win the game by 10 points. 170 to 160. A phenomenal, if perhaps short game, that will be remembered for-"

Snape cast a curse at the radio, and the poor device erupted with the force of a small explosive. Snape was breathing heavily, his hair a mess, and his eyes wild. Footsteps could be heard returning to the living room.

"Potter, you have got to be the most unreliable, pathetic, head inflated, obnoxious flubbermaggot that I have yet to lay eyes on- Oh. Good afternoon, Lord Black."

Harry and Lord Black stood at the entrance to the living room, both had their arms crossed, and both had stern looks on their faces. Snape noticed, curiously, that Harry was actually the same height as Lord Black, and two were quite imposing when they stood side-by-side.

"Severus Snape," Lord Black began. "Thank you for allowing me into your household."

Lord Black's voice was cold, deep and left no room for argument. Snape suddenly felt like things were spiralling out of his control.

"I have arrived today to inform you," Lord Black continued, but his eyes began to sparkle as he spoke.

"Inform you that you've been punked!" Harry shouted, interrupting the other man. Grinning widely, Lord Black raised his hand, and Harry high-fived it.

"Suck it, Snivellus," Lord Black exclaimed.

"That's what you get for letting your other self be a pain in my ass for seven years," Harry added.

Snape just stared. His mouth was wide open. His eyes flickered between Lord Black and Harry Potter.

"I-I don't understand. Just what is happening?" Snape asked incredulously. Casually, Harry took a seat on the sofa, whereas Lord Black leapt over the back of an armchair, and slouched comfortably in the recliner.

"Chuck me a beer, Harry."

"Sure thing, Sirius."

Harry reached for a butterbeer and flicked it across the room. The throw was terrible, and Sirius yelped as he fell off the chair reaching for it.

"Did you say Sirius?" Snape was as confused as he'd ever been in his life.

"The one and only," Harry answered.

"Well, not the one and only," Sirius corrected. "But the one and only still alive, yes."

"Can someone please explain what's going on?" Snape snapped. His confusion had finally let to his familiar anger returning.

"You really didn't explain anything to him?" Sirius asked Harry, ignoring the professor.

"I told you, it's more entertaining this way."

"Hmm. You're not wrong."

"Potter, Black, stop staring at my like I'm a basket case."

"Alright, alright. No need to get your knickers in a knot, Snivellus," Sirius said dismissively. Snape glared daggers at the man.

"You really are Sirius Black. You should have stayed dead, you stupid mutt."

"Technically, I never actually died. The veil is more of an inter-dimensional travel device, then a curtain of death."

"We'd explain it to you," Harry added, "But it's kind of hard to understand."

"In fact, we can't explain it. We don't understand it."

"At all."

"We're not very smart."

"Stop it! The both of you! You're giving me a headache," Snape complained, rubbing the side of his head. "Worse than the Weasley twins," they heard him mutter.

Finally, Snape looked up and pointed his finger accusingly at Lord Black.

"Just who are you?"

"I don't have to answer any of your questions." Sirius crossed his arms over his chest petulantly.

"Sirius," Harry warned, and the older man huffed in annoyance.

"Fine. I'm Sirius Black. Godfather to Harry Potter, and time-traveller extraordinaire. Pleased to meet you Professor Snape."

Sirius held out his hand, grinning widely. Snape just eyed the hand with disgust and ignored it.

"Smart call," Harry said. "He's got a muggle zapper hidden in his palm."

"Harry! Don't tell him that," Sirius whined.

"Anyway. For all this to make sense," Harry stated, gesturing around the room with his hand, "It'd be easier for me to start at the beginning."

"Hold on," Snape said suspiciously, "You knew who each other were at the funeral."

"Yeah, I had my suspicious," Harry admitted. "Short hair? Nicely trimmed beard? That just takes a trip to the hairdressers and a chunk of Sirius's ego."

"Hey!"

"Tattoos can be covered with glamour charms."

Snape did notice that Lord Black… Sirius, was sporting full sleeves of tattoos on each arm, and more visible poking up beneath his shirt collar.

"All that was left was the age conspiracy. Dark magic is capable of many things, but prolonging one's life? Reversing the flow of age? Not even Voldemort can do that."

"But- what about Bellatrix?" Snape asked. "She went missing from Azkaban? If you didn't kill her then who did?"

"Oh. No that one was true," Sirius said, grinning maniacally. It was when his haunted gray eyes lit up like this that Snape knew this wasn't the same Sirius that had been in his world. "I killed that bitch. Turned into Snuffles-"

"That's his animagus form-"

"Snuck past the guards, transformed her into a rock, and dropped into the bottom of the ocean."

Snape raised his eyebrows, watching as Sirius buffed his nails along his chest.

"And… why did you feel that was necessary?"

"Unresolved trauma from my past life." Sirius shrugged. "I had to take it out on someone."

"And also!" Harry said loudly, interrupting. "What my godfather doesn't want to admit is that he also had an ulterior move."

"I did not.

"Did too.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Stop!"

"Sorry, Snivellus," they both said in unison.

"Contrary to popular belief, Lord Black hasn't been in hiding for the last 15 years. He's just been dead," Sirius deadpanned. "However, the only one's how knew about that were his direct family, and most of them had been purged during the first war with Voldemort."

"The what?" Snape exclaimed.

"The first war. Right. There's going to be a second one eventually."

"Right…" Snape said, paling slightly.

"Anywho. For some reason I know not, good ol' cissy and lucissy both passed away before I even arrived in this world. The Sirius of this world had been exiled from his family before he knew of his father's demise. The only loose end was that bitch."

"And so-"

"I turned her into a rock and dropped her in the ocean."

Sirius looked immensely happy with himself.

"With nothing left to stand in my way, I embraced the title of Lord Black, spread some rumours to Rita Skeeter about dark Black magic, and the rest is history."

Snape seemed to be following along well, but he still had one more question.

"But why?"

"Because," Sirius replied.

"Because?"

"Because, because."

"You are infuriating."

"And you are slimy."

"Are we done here?" Harry interrupted.

"But Harry," Sirius whined, but he quietened when Harry told him to shut it.

"The reason isn't important," Harry explained, causing Snape to huff. "The important thing is that he's done all that stuff, and we now have a powerful ally with Lord Black."

"So, little Harrykins-" Harry threw a bottle cap at him, "came knocking on my door, selling girl scout mint thins, and I graciously let him in. Ow, fuck Harry, I'll get to the point."

Sirius rubbed the side of his chest where a fragment of radio had hit him.

"So, Harry came in, we reintroduced ourselves, had a bit of a lark-"

"A what?" Harry asked.

"A lark?"

"You fed me pigeon?"

"What?"

"I thought the chicken tasted weird."

"What about my money!" Snape shouted, and the room fell quiet. Harry cleared his throat loudly, and Sirius seemed to be unable to stop grinning.

"After realising my position with Sirius, and Lord Black, I realised that my initial plans had not been grand enough," Harry explained. "Thus, working together, we came up with some more suitable solutions."

"Such as?"

Sirius was chuckling out loud now. Harry scratched the back of his head.

"I- uh- might have purposely told you the incorrect result for the Quidditch World Cup."

There was silence again.

"POTTER!"

Harry yelped, diving backwards off the sofa as several hexes passed closely over head. Sirius had fallen off his arm chair, laughing out of control.

"Hey, don't hex me," Harry shouted from behind the coffee table. "It was his idea."

"Obviously," Snape drawled, pointing his wand at Sirius, who yelped when a pink hex hit him.

"Stop, stop, there was a reason for this," Sirius cried, raising his hands over his face. He had unusual boils starting to bubble up underneath his skin.

"Which is?"

"That it was going to be really fucking funny. Ow, stop it!"

"Snivy, Snivy, Snivy," Harry repeated, sitting next to the professor. He gripped Snape's wand hand, and held it in an iron lock grip. "I just need you to look at the camera."

"What camera," he growled. Sirius squished himself on Snape's other side and threw an arm over his shoulder. Then, pointed up, towards a tea cupboard in the corner of the room.

"That camera," he said, and Severus could now see a soft red light, twinkling from between the china.

"Severus Snape," Sirius began.

"You've been punked!" Harry finished loudly.

All three men sat there for a few seconds, just staring at the camera.

"Alright, that's enough of that," Harry said, and he summoned the camera towards him with a flick of his fingers.

"All of this. All of my money. All for a prank?" Snape said weakly.

"Yep." Sirius replied easily. He quickly moved when Snape poked one of his angry boils.

"I can't believe this of you, Potter," Snape said, slightly sad, looking at the teen he had housed for the last month.

"Relax, Snivy. I said I'd pay you back," Harry said, waving his hand dismissively. "In fact, you've been such a good sport, we'll pay you back your whole winnings."

"Aww. Do we have to?"

"Yes, Sirius."

Snape looked mildly mollified, but still highly irritated. Before Snape could ask any more questions, Harry began to clarify things.

"Remember how I said I wasn't thinking on a grand enough scale?" Snape nodded. "This gambling trick, it will only work once. As soon as I interfere in something like this, it's not safe to assume that the rest of the timeline will follow accordingly. Also… tonight, at the Quidditch World Cup, something may happen involving this world's Potter."

"And whatever this world's Potter touches, changes compared to your world," Snape stated, and Harry nodded in confirmation.

"So, we only had one chance. I'd just confirmed that Lord Black was mentally unstable, and all of the pieces just sort of came together."

Snape glanced between the two men.

"You're not about to tell me that you took the _entire_ savings of the Ancient House of Black, money that has been accumulated over many generations, and gambled it on a quidditch game?"

"We also liquidised all the Black heirlooms," Sirius added, grinning happily.

"And so you… how much money?"

"28,589 galleons," Sirius said proudly. "But we didn't lose it. Remember? We purposely told you to bet on the wrong score."

"Yes. I remember that quite clearly, Black."

"Sorry. Just wanted to remind you that you'd lost all your money. Just in case you forgot. That you lost it. All of it."

Sirius only barely dodged the next curse sent his way as Harry started talking again.

"Both Sirius and I remembered that game well. Krum would catch the snitch, but Ireland would win by a goal." Harry shrugged, but couldn't keep the grin off his face.

"How much did you win?" Snape demanded. The two men just stared at him, their smiles growing larger and larger.

"How much, did you win?"

"Three and a half million."

Snape looked like he'd seen death.

"What?"

"Three million, six-hundred and twelve thousand, three-hundred and three galleons," Sirius said, the number memorised in his head.

"B-but that's-"

"Yeah. The Black's weren't the richest family in Great Britain before, but they definitely are now," Harry said happily.

"Liquidised assets, that is. The Malfoy's technically had more property investments. Hell, they owned half of Knockturn Alley. But well… they're dead, so it doesn't matter."

"The Greengrasses are pretty wealthy," Harry said thoughtfully. "They've got a literal 100% monopoly on all legal potioneer shops."

"And don't forget the Longbottoms," Sirius said, whistling softly. "That family practically funded Diagon Alley from the ground up. Hogsmeade too now that I think about it."

"But other than that, I think we're it."

"So yeah. We'll pay you back your winnings, Snivy," Harry said easily, turning to the professor. "No hard feelings, eh?"

"I should be terribly angry at the two of you, but frankly, thirty thousand galleons sounds pretty good," Snape admitted.

"It wasn't all a prank, either," Harry admitted.

Sirius snorted.

"Alright, it was mainly a prank, but it did have a use. The goblin's are going to be furious at us after this. We can't get in legal trouble, as we passed all of their time-traveller tampering wards, but if two people close to Harry Potter both made identical bets… let's just say a nighttime visit wouldn't have been uncalled for."

"Even now, updating your ward system probably isn't a bad idea," Sirius admitted thoughtfully. He then grinned roguishly at Snape. "And it's not like you don't have the money to fund that now."

Harry narrowed his eyes in concentration, and three fresh butterbeers floated from the fridge. Each wizard grabbed one, and with a hesitant grin, clinged the glasses together.

"Cheers."

"To money!"

"To renovating this apartment!"

"To a ten foot gold statue of my cock and balls."

They looked at Sirius.

"What? You can't stop me."

* * *

Eve sighed happily. She was lying in her tent, staring at the stars through the magically transparent ceiling. The occasional firework could be seen trailing lazily through the sky before exploding into a dragon, or a flock of birds.

The Quidditch World Cup had been amazing. Watching the Irish chasers play had been incredible. Their teamwork had been flawless and unstoppable. The only thing that could have been better was a longer game. Perhaps another two to three days would have hit the spot.

But really, it had been wonderful. It was great to see Ron and the Weasley's again. Ron was a good friend, even if he was quite down these days. A good game of quidditch had drastically lifted his mood though. The twins were always good for a laugh too, when they weren't teasing her or dying her hair pink, of course.

Sitting in the top box had been a treat as well. The Weasley's, the Potter's and even the Longbottom's had been there. Neville didn't have much of an interest in the sport, but it was good just to chat to another Gryffindor.

However, the empty seat between her and her Mum and Dad had been a profound reminder of who was missing. Harry Potter's whereabouts had still not been discovered. Eve rolled over in her bed, frowning at the wall. It was… somewhat relieving that he wasn't around, but she was worried about what he was up to. He'd been away for so long. It must be something serious.

Unlike her Mum and Dad, she knew that whatever Harry was up to, it was not good news.

Speaking of Harry Potter…

Her mind drifted to the tall man at Sirius's funeral. She wished she'd known his last name earlier. There was so much she could've asked him, and so much more that would've made sense. Like that longing in her chest that made her miss him, or that natural instinct to trust him when he spoke.

But her Mum and Dad had forbidden her from reaching out to him. Eve knew they were hiding something from her. Harry wasn't some foreign cousin. He was like the older brother she always wished she had. Who he was though… Eve just couldn't figure it out.

But she would.

When she got going, there was no stopping her.

There was a bang as another firework was released. The celebrations were still going. Eve tucked herself under the sheets, relishing the isolation.

When she got home, she was going to get in touch with Harry. She would… well, she couldn't use an owl as she didn't know where he lived. She could always just wait outside the Chinese take away shop, but who knows the next time he'd go there.

She grumbled to herself. It would be easy to sneak away from home. Mum and Dad barely cared. How to get in touch with Harry was a different story.

The fireworks were growing in number and she frowned. They also seemed to be getting louder, and closer. She crawled out of her bed, and took notice of surroundings. The air felt charged, and leaking tension. She shivered, despite wearing long pyjamas. She reached for her shoes at the foot of her bed, grabbed her willow wand and cautiously strode out of the bedroom.

The main tent area was empty, and a quick glance into her parent's room showed that they were absent too. That was not unusual, but it didn't make her feel any better.

She edged closer to the tent entrance. The sounds were louder now. There were shouts and screams, and they didn't sound like celebration sounds anymore. She was steeling herself to make an exit when the front entrance blew open, and something barrelled into her heavily.

"Eve- Oof!."

The two tumbled to the ground, and it was only when they settled did she recognise the mop of messy ginger hair.

"Ron?"

"Hey, Eve. Sorry bout that." The long, lanky boy picked himself up off the ground, and gave her his hand. She gratefully took it and he lugged her upright.

"What's going on out there?" She asked. The shouts were only growing louder in volume.

"I dunno exactly," He admitted, rubbing the front of his nose. "But there's some bad wizards out there. They've lifted a bunch of muggles up, and are burning down heaps of tents."

Ron glanced at Eve out of the corner of his eye.

"I uh, knew you'd be alone, so I thought I should get you. Y'know, so we can, look out for each other."

Eve smiled gratefully, and rested a hand on Ron's shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze.

"That's really sweet of you. Thanks Ron."

"S'no big deal," he muttered, but his face was lighting up bright red. "Anyway, people are evacuating to the forest. Trying to get away from the fires. I think we should too."

Eve nodded, Her black hair swishing back and forth as she did so.

"Let me just grab some things. Give me thirty secs."

She ran back to her room, swept everything lying on the portable table into a nearby backpack and slung it over her shoulders. The only other stuff that remained were clothes.

"Alright, Ron," she called, heading back to the main room, where she could see Ron was waiting impatiently. He was walking back and forth, tapping his fingers nervously on his wand. "I'm ready to-"

She was cut off as a large explosion boomed from just outside, and the tent walls were ripped through like wet newspaper. Ron, who had been closest to the explosion, was blown off his feet and sent tumbling back onto the ground. Eve hadn't been nearly as close, but even she was thrown off balance by the shock wave.

Through the torn walls she could see a marching band of black cloaked wizards. They were laughing and cajoling with one another, and she felt sick as both saw and heard the screaming muggles being floated in the sky.

The wizards seemed content to just march on by, throwing curses at any new tents they came across. However, one small wizard broke away from the group. He stepped carefully over an unconscious body, and made his way directly towards her tent. He was thin, even with the bulky robes thrown over him, which were billowing in the smoke and hot wind, but he walked with an eerie kind of grace. It was almost like watching someone float.

He stepped into the tent, with all the grace of someone walking into their own home. He even dusted his feet on the doormat before stepping in, not that it helped much. The main room was covered in ash, dust and smoke.

He had no mask on his face, but the long, diving hood covered his features. Slowly, he took his hands to the hood and pulled it down, revealing familiar long, dark messy hair. The eyes weren't familiar though. They were blood red, like twinkling rubies.

"Hello, Evelynn. How wonderful to meet my favourite sister again."

"I'm your only sister," Eve snapped, trying to keep up a brave front. She glanced down. Ron was still unconscious. She had her wand, but she was too scared to use it. She turned her eyes back to the wizard in front of her. He chuckled, and the sound was like nails scraping on chalkboards for her.

"I know," Harry Potter said. "I just thought you'd enjoy that."

* * *

**AN/**

**As you might be aware, I'm focusing on two different stories at the same time right now. That's probably not the best idea, but hey, it's a lot of fun.**

**A bottomeless mug of hot chocolate delivered by owl to all reviewers... although owlpost has been a bit unreliable lately...**

**Cheers**

**-Council**


	6. Chapter 6

**The Otherside**  
**Chapter 6**

* * *

"You look different, brother," Eve commented. Her wand was drawn, pointing directly at Harry. He seemed unconcerned, his own holly wand resting easily at his side. His red eyes were staring directly at her. The intensity was overwhelming, and she had to use all her strength not to turn away.

"Ah, it's the eyes, isn't," He stated. "Quite troublesome. We tried all sorts of glamour charms, but none of them quite did the trick."

"Who's we? Your little death eater friends you go rampaging with?"

"Not nearly," Harry said, snorting. "They're not attuned enough, not quite clever enough to help with this sort of delicate task."

"Also, I'll kill the man that points a wand at my face. Even if under the pretence of a diagnostic charm." He frowned at her briefly. "Speaking of, would you kindly lower your own wand, sister."

His red eyes flashed briefly, and Eve became aware of how heavy her wand arm was. It was difficult holding it upright, and would be far easier to let it drop, and just rest by her side.

"Much better." Harry smirked at her. She shook her head harshly, and she felt her mind sharpen. The noises from outside, the screaming and crackling of fires, came rushing back to her senses.

"What are you doing here?" Eve demanded. "Are you responsible for… outside?"

He chuckled, like a blood eyed demon.

"Perhaps. I needed a way to blend back into society. You see Evelynn, I've accomplished much on my own. It was a… strict necessity. Now though, I require a return to a more normal life."

"But, then why hurt the muggles? Why do any of this?"

Harry turned around to stare at the results of the spellfire. The smoke and screams seemed to please him, for he smirked, satisfied. His smile disappeared quickly though, and he quickly turned to her.

"There was more I wanted to say, but…" He trailed off. "You know I would never lie to you, Evelynn."

"Lie to me? I don't even know who you are anymore," she spat.

"I understand that you're feeling confused, betrayed and perhaps a little intimidated," Harry spoke softly. "I just want to remind you that I am your brother. Your only brother. Everything I do is for you."

"Well you've got a weird way of showing that!" Eve felt anger bubbling up inside of her chest. She hated this red eyed demon. She hated his complete control over her.

"I would try to explain, but I'm afraid you simply wouldn't understand," he replied sadly.

Eve could hear new voices in the background now. They were sharp voices, barking orders, and bringing peace back to the chaos. Harry must have heard them as well, for he finally took his piercing ruby gaze off of her. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small plastic container.

It was almost comical watching him unscrew each plastic lid, and then dip his finger into the shallow liquid. He grimaced as he pushed a small, transparent circle into each eye.

"I hate this feeling," Harry admitted, looking up towards the tent ceiling and blinking rapidly. Slowly, he brought his eyes down, and Eve's breath hitched as she saw his eyes had returned to a familiar emerald green.

"Fantastic things, aren't they," Harry stated. "Muggles made them, admittedly. They aren't all useless I suppose."

"Now, Evelynn. I want you to be a good girl. When someone asks what happened, you tell them I escaped from the death eater's tent, and stumbled in here, searching for Mum and Dad. I just happened to run into you, and you saved me."

He pulled the black cloak off his body, threw it on the ground, and with a flick of his wand set it alight. He glanced down at his clothes, which were surprisingly muggle. Without flinching, he cast several cutting curses at his own body. They were deep enough to draw a steady flow of blood, but he didn't seem to even recognise the pain.

"Why? I'll just tell them the truth. That you're a demon. That you need to be put down!"

"Why so much hatred towards me, Evelynn," Harry asked, sounding both disappointed and confused. "I have never once hurt you. Never once raised my voice. I have only ever shown you care and mercy. Have I not been the epitome of a good brother?"

"You bastard," Eve replied, her teeth gritting together painfully. She could feel tears begging to escape at the corners of her eyes. "I know you did something to Ginny. When you returned from the chamber like a hero, having slain the basilisk, but couldn't save her. You killed my best friend, didn't you!"

She realised by the end that she was shouting. Harry didn't look fazed.

"That anger is good. You'll grow to be powerful, right by my side."

"I'll never be by your side."

"Ginny… was a necessity."

"As a scapegoat?"

"As something more."

Eve glared at him, but he refused to say anymore.

"I can show them this memory," Eve threatened. "I'll show Mum and Dad. I'll show Dumbledore. I'll even take veritaserum."

"I thought you might say that," Harry sighed. Reluctantly, he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small bracelet. He tapped it with his wand and it enlarged. Eve realised it was actually a necklace, or more like a collar.

Quickly, with movements sharp and precise like a lunging snake, he crossed the room towards her. She flinched, stumbling backwards, fumbling with her wand as she tried to raise it again.

"Relax, sister. I have promised never to hurt you."

Instead, he swooped down, and snapped the collar around the still unconscious Ron's neck. The collar seemed to have a life of its own. It slowly began sinking into his skin. Small silver fragments that she had assumed to be decorative became alive, and began digging into the flesh with haste. Eve could only watch in horror as the collar slowly disappeared from sight, leaving not a single mark on the redhead's neck.

Harry stood back up, his movements unnaturally graceful and quick, and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"However, if you tell even one soul what you have seen and heard tonight, I will activate that collar. It will dig even deeper, and even tighter, until it snaps his neck in half. If someone tampers with it, it will activate it. If you try to remove it, it will activate it. If you care about the Weasley, you will keep my secrets, or I will activate it. Do you understand, Evelynn."

Eve nodded, tears silently dripping down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes closed as he reached his hand forwards to wipe away her tears. She was paralysed to the spot, unable to move a single muscle.

"Don't cry, my dear sister. This is good. You can trust me now. We have our own secrets to share, just the two of us. That is the first step for you to stand by my side."

And then he collapsed to the ground in a heap. Moments later James and Lily burst into the room, while several aurors could be seen in the background, rapidly moving from tent to tent. Her Mum and Dad looked into the room with wide eyes, filled with horror and worry.

Upon seeing the still, unmoving form of Harry on the ground, Lily screamed and ran forwards. She slid to the ground on her knees and clutched Harry by the shoulders, pushing him onto his back.

"Harry! Please wake up. Oh gods. Harry!" Lily cried softly as she called out, rocking the body back and forth in her arms. James ran up to Eve, and she reached out into his embrace. She felt a fresh wave of tears escape as she leaned into him, and he hugged her in return.

"What happened, Evelynn?" James asked as he rubbed her back soothingly.

"It-it's Harry," Eve stammered through her stifled cries.

"What about him? Is he alright?"

"He-" Her voice caught in her throat. She tried again, but the words wouldn't come. She looked at Ron, lying on the ground unconscious. Eve wanted to speak out loud. To tell the truth. To tell her parents everything, but as hard as she tried, the words wouldn't come.

She couldn't let Ron be hurt.

"M-mum?" A weak voice called, and Eve collapsed as James suddenly left her, choosing to kneel beside his son.

"Oh Harry!" Lily cried, hugging him closely. "We found you. You're going to be alright. We promise."

"It's good to have you back, son," James said softly, patting him on the shoulder.

Harry glanced at the space between his parents, directly at Eve who was slumped on the ground on her knees. He smiled softly, and his green contacts that hid the demon beneath twinkled.

"It's good to be back."

* * *

Harry awoke to the familiar feeling of a dry mouth, sun peeking through the venetian blinds, and the lumpy, uneven feeling of Snape's couch.

Sirius didn't look much better, half sunk forwards in the recliner. His shirt had been removed during the hot night, but his pants fortunately remained. Harry could see that tightness around the man's ribs that had never disappeared after his 13 year imprisonment.

"Grrr… arf…"

Harry chuckled at his godfather, who seemed to be having a somewhat pleasant, canine dream. Slowly he pushed himself upright, wondering where Snape was. Grabbing his own discarded shirt and slipping it on, he slipped past the sleep-barking man, and poked his head in the main bedroom.

"Oi, Snivy. Time to wake up."

"Leave me alone, you wretched Potter."

Snape looked terrible. He had only made it halfway to bed last night, and it showed. Unlike Harry and Sirius, he had not had the forethought to dressdown, and he looked like he had slept in a bath of his own sweat. Harry felt some pity for the man, especially because it was mainly his fault the man was so hungover, and cast a rough cleaning charm to remove the sweat, and a frosting charm to cool him down.

"You are an alcoholic with a problem," Snape grumbled, feeling better enough to argue.

"Hey, that was social drinking. Besides, you're the one who got yourself drunk."

"It's still your fault. You're a bad influence."

"Oh come on Snivy. It was a celebration. We just woke up literal fucking millionaires."

"Who's having sexual relations with a millionaire?" Sirius asked, stepping into the room, still shirtless, and yawning loudly.

"Oh joy. The mutt is awake."

"You look like shit."

"Thank you for your astute observations, you flea-bag."

"Come on guys. For the first time in your life, you've woken up with literally, a tonne of gold galleons. Isn't there something we can be doing other than bickering?" Harry complained. The two older men stared at each other in silence for a full three seconds.

"Slimeball."

"I'll neuter you, Black."

Putting his hands up in defeat, Harry turned to the kitchen to get some semblance of breakfast ready. Upon opening the fridge though, it was relatively clear that there wasn't going to be much in the way for breakfast.

"Oi, who left the ice cream in the fridge?" Harry shouted down the hall.

There was silence.

"Sirius, I know it was you."

"Nuh uh. You can't prove that!"

Harry opened up the lid, grimacing at the milky liquid swirling within.

"There's literal dog hair in it."

"...Still wasn't me."

Sighing, Harry slammed the fridge shut, wondering what alternatives there was. Honestly, waking up a millionaire was a lot less exciting than he thought it was going to be.

"Of course," he said suddenly, snapping his fingers excitedly. The phone whizzed into his hands from across the room. He dialled a number from a fridge magnet and waited patiently.

"Hello, this is James from Buns-a-Million, how may I help you."

"Good morning, good sir. Do you do delivery?" Harry's voice was jovial and upbeat, a stark comparison to James, who sounded done with life, and a stark contrast to Snape, who Harry could now hear retching in the bathroom.

"We do offer delivery."

"Second best words I've heard all morning," Harry replied. There was no immediate response. "You don't want to hear the first best words?"

"Not really, mate. I'm working on minimum wage. Can I just take your order?"

"What's the most expensive breakfast platter you make?"

"We don't do breakfast."

"Huh. What do you do?

There was a heavy sigh on the other side of the line, but to his credit, James stayed on the phone.

"This is Buns-A-Million. We make sandwiches. On buns."

"Right. Got anything with bacon on it?"

Harry finished his order soon after, with the promise of delivery within twenty minutes. Harry assumed that would be enough time for Snape to get his head out of the toilet bowl.

Harry returned to the living room, smirking as he passed Sirius holding the camera from earlier, filming Snape's demise. An owl was tapping on the window holding a newspaper. He let it in, scavenged a few knuts from Snape's ashtray, and flicked the paper open.

**Boy-Who-Lived Reunited With Family**

"Oh, this is going to be good."

Harry frowned as he read through the paper. It was largely inane nonsense. The Prophet was trying to suck up to the good guys, but it was simply drivel with no actual substance.

The moving picture in the middle of the paper got his attention though. The Boy-Who-Lived was standing in the middle, just in front of James and Lily Potter. The parents had large smiles on their faces, and their arms protectively wrapped around their son. He, on the other hand, was smiling, but it wasn't quite as sincere. There was a sharpness to his gaze that was unsettling.

Eve was in the photo as well, with a big, fat, fake smile plastered on her face. Harry could tell, even with the few times he had seen her. If there was ever a fake smile, this was the textbook definition. It didn't meet her overcast eyes. She stood on guard, her knees slightly bent, her weight on the front of her feet. She was as far from relaxed.

The reunion story was a whimsical distraction from the actual events that had occurred last night. Several wizards dressed as Death Eater's had raided the Quidditch World Cup, setting fire to tents and harassing unsuspecting muggles.

Harry had been expecting this. It had happened in his world as well. He had not been largely concerned as it had not resulted in any casualties. In reality, it had just been Lucius and some friends on a drunk voyage.

What was curious was the lack of a dark mark.

Harry frowned. Was Barty Crouch Jr. playing the same role in this world, and if not, why had his path diverged?

It was unsettling, to say the least.

He wondered what Eve had seen. Perhaps it was worth asking for her side of the story next time their paths crossed.

_If_ their paths crossed, he reminded himself, rather somberly.

"I know that look well," Sirius called, exiting the bathroom, looking very satisfied while holding the portable camera.

"Oh really?" Harry asked the still shirtless man.

"Mhmm. James used to look just like that, with the squinty eyes and the forehead wrinkles, every time he was constipated."

Sirius looked proud of his deduction, whilst Harry just rolled his eyes.

"My bowels are working quite adequately, but thanks for the concern."

"Alternatively, he was usually just thinking about Lily," Sirius admitted, plunking down heavily on the sofa beside him. "So, who's the lucky girl?"

"Please, Padfoot. There is no girl," Harry argued, but he couldn't help his eyes flicked to the newspaper. Sirius was uncharacteristically sharp and followed his gaze, his eyes softening in understanding.

"I get it," Sirius admitted softly, nodding his head. It was still weird to see him with short hair. "Growing up, I tried to be like a father to you, in James' stead. I guess I never thought about being a mother to you."

"Wait, what?"

"I mean, I'd have no problem with getting the breasts. In fact that might have even been a bonus. I just would have struggled with the whole whiny, overprotective personality."

"Sirius!" Harry shouted, interrupting the man. "I don't miss my Mum. I have her here." Harry tapped against his heart twice.

"Then who- ah, the daughter. You care for your sister."

"She's not technically my sister, but she's so young. It just makes me want to look out for her," Harry admitted.

Sirius huffed in amusement, grinning when Harry glared at him.

"Well, it's far less exciting than a sexual adventure, but I think I see where you're coming from."

"Thank you for your shining review, Sirius."

"Bite me. I had sisters, and I threw one in the ocean. You're getting off lucky."

"I am lucky. I just wish I could help her more. It's a shame James and Lily want nothing to do with me."

"More than just a shame," Sirius growled angrily. The two men sat in silence interrupted only by the intermittent sound of Snape throwing his guts out.

"I've got an idea," Sirius said suddenly.

"Don't hurt yourself," Harry replied blithely, causing Sirius to punch him on the shoulder.

"We just ran into a lot of money, right?"

"Right."

"And you told me when you were tele-dimensioned to this world they destroyed the Goblet of Fire?"

"Yeah… that's right!"

"Meanings their Triwizard tournament is probably running into a bit of trouble."

"Perhaps even some financial trouble."

The two were talking faster now.

"So, we could bribe the games committee-" Harry began, but was interrupted.

"I don't like the word bribe." Sirius complained.

"Fine. What would you say?"

"A generous donation to a financial committee in order to influence events to our liking."

"I'm pretty sure I heard Hermione use that as the textbook definition of bribery.

"Just let me have my peace of mind!" Sirius whined.

"This could work though." Harry admitted

"It'd be absolute chaos."

Their musing was interrupted by Snape crawling out of the bathroom in all fours, looking decidedly worse for wear.

"Potter. Get me a glass of water," Snape rasped.

At the same time the front doorbell rang.

"Sirius, grab a drink for Snivy, I'll grab the food."

"Do I have to?"

They both stared down at the poor man, even more sallow and gaunt than his usual self.

"Have pity on the poor man."

"Fine. But this makes us even for the werewolf thing."

"It certainly does not," Snape managed to snap.

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head as he made his way to the front door. Giving a quick glance around him to make sure nothing magical was on display, he then yanked the door open.

"James here from Buns-A-Million, with an order for Harry Potter?"

"Yeah, that's me," Harry confirmed, reaching over to grab the plastic bag.

"That'll be thirty-six pounds, sir."

"Oi, Snivy, where's your cash kept?" Harry called down the hallway, but the sound of a flushing toilet was his only response.

"Fine. Lord Black. I need a loan "

"Sorry, Harry," Sirius replies whole emptying the water glass on Snape's head. "I don't have any… normal money."

"Well I sure as hell don't have anything on me!" Harry shouted back in frustration. He turned back to James who was standing there awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, sir, but if you can't pay for the food I'm going to have to take it back."

"But- you can't do that! I'm hungry," Harry complained as James took the plastic bag back.

"Sorry, sir."

Harry could only stare, wide eyed and slack jawed as he watched his food walk away from him.

"What's the point of having all this money if I can't buy any bloody food to eat!"

"Well that sucks," Sirius commented, clapping Harry on the shoulder.

"This is the worst way to wake up as a millionaire," Harry grumbled.

Snape vomited loudly.

"Second worst way," Sirius corrected.

* * *

**AN/**

**Hopefully some of the hinted at mysteries are starting to make more sense. A large part of this writing exercise is to try to create an intelligent villain, who has just as many tools at his disposal as the protagonists. We'll see how it goes.**

**Thank you for the wonderful reviews. I showed them to my dog, Archie, and he licked my nostril, so I think he appreciated it too.**

**Cheers**

**-Council**


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